


Stormborn

by theexplorerofpossibility



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Adorable Peter Parker, Adorable Thor (Marvel), Asgardian Magic, Asgardian Peter Parker, Awkward Father-Son Relationship, BAMF Peter Parker, BAMF Thor (Marvel), Canon Divergence - Avengers (2012), Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Half Asgardian Peter Parker, Kid Peter Parker, Magic, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant Representation of Magic, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Thor (Marvel), Slow Burn, Story begins during The Avengers (2012), Thor acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Thor is Peter Parker's dad, at first, dad thor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-05-12 06:16:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19223314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theexplorerofpossibility/pseuds/theexplorerofpossibility
Summary: Set during The Avengers (2012)When Thor was able to return to Earth again, it was because of his brother's errant schemes that was plunging Earth into chaos.  He did not expect to join a band of warriors to battle against his brother. Nor could he have anticipated discovering a young Midgardian boy to carry Asgardian magic, the power of lightning and storms.Peter Parker is certain of the following things. He was Peter Benjamin Parker. His mother was Mary Parker. His stepdad was Richard Parker. He was raised by Ben and May Parker. He didn't know his birth father. And he was 100% born and raised human.But seeing the lightning shoot from his hands and the electricity on his skin, he realized he might not be certain of anything after all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! And welcome to my new story! 
> 
> Now I gotta admit, this one is a bit of a doozy. 12k words for just the _first_ chapter alone? I might have gotten carried away hahaha  
>   
> Also, this is a very crack idea but my brain just went wild with the possibilities. And I just really wanted to see some Peter Parker and Thor interaction because they're two of my favorite characters in the MCU. I also love the idea of the other Avengers being Peter's _actual_ parents so this might not be the last story I post that has the same story idea.  
>   
> And with that, I hope you enjoy!!!

_Her hair was the color of dark mahogany, turned coppery and golden by the setting sun. She carried the scent of carnations in bloom and old leather books. Her lips were full and always in the color of deep roses, easy to pull back into an easy smile. And her eyes. Her eyes were pools of deep brown, the color of melted chocolate, rich and vibrant, glinting mischievously. Eyes shining with joy and affection._

_Mary_

“Thor.”

At the beckon, Thor was taken from his memory. And then he remembered where he was. Midgard. The transport known as the Helicarrier. And in a room full of dangerous warriors discussing the still missing Tesseract. And all of them nothing compared to the danger posed by his brother Loki, who sat amongst them as he played whatever game he had in store.

“What’s his play?”

He turned from the scurrying of the agents below and to the mortal captain, face neutral but a mask for the worry and confusion Thor could just imagine was beneath. For that was within him as well.

“He has an army called the Chitauri. They’re not of Asgard or any world known.” He answered grimly. “He means to lead them against your people. They will win him the Earth. In return, I suspect, for the Tesseract.”

Their faces turned somber at the news, and Thor felt a hot lance of shame within him as he thought of how all of this could have been avoided. If he had only known. If he had only listened and opened his eyes. If he had simply unchained himself of his juvenile beliefs, then maybe this madness would not have persisted. And all of these were nothing but bitter truths revealed when all was already lost. Regret was a cruel mistress, not one to forget or forgive, and it caged his heart with cold iron bars. But now was neither the time nor place. For now, he must let go. Loki was on a path of destruction, and the Midgardians were paying for it. And it would be the last time Thor would let innocent blood pay for his failures.

Yet a traitorous voice whispered beneath his consciousness. _No,_ it said, _no it shall not be the last._ It cradled him with poisonous thoughts, even as he focused on the group striving to learn Loki’s schemes, with thorny vines that prickled his conscience.

_You know it won’t stop. There will be recompense for your failures. There always has._

He listened to them discuss, or rather squabble, and silenced his thoughts as much as he can. Yet he could not stop his mind from wandering back to old memories. Of large fields of grass, high pitched laughter in the air. The burn of scrapes from playing, and the cool cloth of healing ointments. The sound of a child’s voice, singing with a joyful lilt. Of eyes shining with an innocent mischief, then a dark humor. Lips pulled in a playful smirk, only now turned cruel and acerbic. Alabaster skin that turned the deep shade of blue, screaming at him with broken lies and unearthed truths.

And then, an older memory, dark hair. The color of mahogany and oak and pine and of every kind of bark. Hair turned golden and coppery in the setting sun. The smell of carnations and leather books aged with time. Lips the color of roses. The color of blood. Pulled back to an easy smile, then a vicious grin, and then fury. Eyes the color of melted chocolate, of burning forests, of a darker torture. Of love. Of pain. Of endless beauty and sorrow.

_It will never stop._

 

* * *

 

The headquarters of Oscorp Industries shined like a bright beacon among the gray of New York City. A tower made of the finest steel, concrete, and glass, Oscorp Tower stood as an 850-foot symbol of the peak of modern architecture. But it’s true treasure lied inside, hidden underneath the floors of offices and meters of pavement. The technological excellence of the Oscorp Industries laboratories was something only the best and brightest got to witness. Those with the most shining resumes, well curated college backgrounds, and had the recommendations of only the best scientists got in. Being part of the research staff was like being in an exclusive party. The only other company that managed to outdo Oscorp was Stark Industries itself.

Peter still can’t believe he was going to see it for himself. The ID badge felt like a medal of honor on his neck, sitting comfortably right next to his father’s necklace. He stroked the badge tenderly, still stuck in a state of disbelief. He probably had a stupid expression on his face, probably made worse by the big round glasses that made him look bug-eyed, as the rest of the students entered the tall halls of Oscorp Tower. The 10-year-old was practically vibrating on the spot as they were checked through a high tech security gate and asked to swipe their badges, Peter practically running as he finally entered the secure part of Oscorp Tower, far from prying eyes. Mr. Harrington was already inside, along with the designated tour guide, as the rest of the students trickled in.

Peter stood to the side, away from the crowd, and checked his surroundings, absentmindedly playing with his metal pendant and the ID badge. They were in a hallway a few floors above the main lobby, far from the usual exhibits of colorful holographs and activity centers for guests, frosted glass on all sides. The tour guide was leading them to a set of elevators separate from the other parts of the tower, built exclusively for the laboratories. Which was another thing that just blew Peter’s mind. Because most high schools never get a chance to even _see_ the labs, let alone actually go inside them. Usually Oscorp just had them view the exhibits and displays in the mini museum in the tower. But apparently there were policy changes and now the company was opening its labs to a select group of students, allowing them a chance to see the greatest minds in biomedical and chemical engineering, to name a few, at work. And Peter’s class, specifically those with the highest grades in the entire school, was one of those lucky enough to be picked.

‘ _By Dr. Curtis Connors no less!’_ Peter thought silently as they were lead to the large elevators, distractedly fixing the glasses that slid down his face. As they waited for the elevators to arrive, his mind started running at the possible things that they could play with. There was the new electron microscope that could take pictures of actual atoms. Maybe they’d get to see the new petri dish grown meat that Oscorp developed? And there was the rumors of Oscorp finally figuring out how to farm spider silk for biocable use! But since they were selected by Dr. Connors, would they get to see him instead? That’s gonna be so cool!

There was a ding and 9 excited teens, 1 very excited little kid, a disgruntled high school teacher, and an exasperated tour guide all filed in to the elevator. There was a lot of shuffling, some of them accidentally (or maybe not accidentally) elbowing each other in the frankly spacious elevator. Peter somehow ended up in the front, which was fine for him since he would get to see the lab first, although somehow someone managed to smudge their fingers on his glasses _again_. He was already impatiently tapping his fingers on the metal pendant of his necklace, so ready and excited to just _see it already_. And he knew that he wasn’t the only one. He could hear the older kids murmuring behind him excitedly.

“You think they’re gonna let us touch the machines?” That was Seymour O’Reilly. Looking back, he saw O’Reilly talking with Charles Murphy, Sally Avril, and Jason Ionello. He quickly turned his head and tried to do his best to be inconspicuous (thank you diminutive height). Bad things tend to happen to him if he caught their attention.

“Maybe? I mean we are gonna see it in the real,” replied Murphy.

“Like any one would let you touch anything after the incident with Miss Warren.” Was Avril’s snarky reply.

Peter could hear Murphy’s shout of indignation before Ionello spoke up.

“Well that’s nothing compared to what Peter did in Mr. Cobwell’s class. Talk about clutz of the century.”

Peter felt his face burn with shame at the memory. And it got even worse when he heard the other teens snigger behind him. He tucked his shoulders in and looked down, an obvious attempt to hide but he couldn’t help it. They kept on talking behind him, more excited chatter about the lab and even more sniggers that wasn’t doing anything for his dignity. He tried not to let his excitement dim at their comments. He grabbed for his necklace underneath his shirt, the cool metal bent into the familiar shape grounding him and providing him comfort.

“Unfortunately, all of the laboratory equipment are off-limits from non-laboratory personnel,” said the tour guide, his calm voice cutting through the noisy babble of the older kids. A chorus of disappointed noises came from all students. The tour guide said nothing, keeping up his calm neutral façade, although Peter thought he saw his mouth twitch. How long has this guy been giving tours for that kind of poker face? Must have been a lot.

He heard a sigh from his right and saw Mr. Harrington looking just a few steps shy from falling asleep. Being teacher must be really tiring.

“Kids please relax. We’re going to see very advanced laboratories filled with very expensive equipment. We are not at a theme park.”

The older students, of course, ignored him, like any student would do when they’re gonna get the chance to see the equivalent of Mecca for scientists. Sure they were the smartest kids in Midtown High, but putting them in a room filled with shiny metal equipment that could batch clone metric tons of biofuel in less than a few minutes? Now that’s Candyland.

There was another ding and the elevator doors opened to another empty hallway. Further down, the hallway opened up to two different pathways to the sides. The tour guide stepped fluidly from the elevator and lead their group straight towards the path in the middle. Peter looked around, trying to see if he could catch a peek inside the rooms. Of course, frosted glass made that difficult, but he could still see the variety of shadows and colorful figures through the glass.

“We are now at the Research and Development floor of Oscorp Tower.” The tour guide kept walking with a slow yet steady pace as the rest of Peter’s group followed. The way they walked in a straight line reminded him of ducklings and he had to stifle a giggle at the thought.

“Specifically, the Biomedical Research Division that is currently being spearheaded by Dr. Curtis Connors himself.” The tour guide kept on talking as he walked to a big set of chrome doors at the end of the hall. He stopped just in front of the doors and signaled for the group to stop as well. “You’re about to get a look into the inner workings of how the brightest researchers in the field of medicine and biotechnology are working together to create the world of tomorrow.” He said this with both hands now clasped in front of him and a smile on his face. He turned to the door and to a console in the side that Peter hadn’t noticed before, sliding a key card and typing in a code before turning back to them and Peter could swear that there was even an excited glint in the tour guide’s eyes too. The dramatic way he said it was beginning to pump up the all of them and Peter could feel himself bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Students and faculty of Midtown School of Science and Technology, welcome to the future.” With a flourish, he opened the doors. Peter felt his jaw fall open at the sight before him. He heard a whispered “Oh my God” besides him and he only nodded in agreement.

The doors opened into a large room filled with researchers in lab coats moving around. There multiple lab tables covered with an assortment of machines and glassware filled with chemicals. He noticed the giant centrifuges in one corner, different machines designated for PCR, DNA ligase reactions, and even one for CRISPR gene editing, a gigantic machine in the far end of the room separated by a wall of glass (wait is that the Pym Quantum Microscope?!), and so much more that Peter was swiveling his head left and right, trying his best to grasp the _everything_ around him.

There were murmured _woahs_ and _wows_ around him and Peter was nodding his head with them in agreement. Because _woah._ And _wow_. And just _oh my God_. He was here. He was _literally here._ Peter couldn’t stop smiling and turning every which way. He could hear Mr. Harrington ask for their attention, except it was like from far away because Peter’s brain was on cloud nine and everything felt unimportant to the pervading sense of _holy crap this is real!_

There was a rush as the other kids started asking questions at the tour guide, Mr. Harrington’s attempt to calm them down lost to the eager chatter of the students along with Peter who was left in the back.

“Can we use the cloning set up?” asked Avril.

“No you can’t-” answered the tour guide, but was quickly cut off by O’Reilly.

“Where do they make enzyme therapy system? Like the one currently in use in John Hopkin’s?”

“That’s kind of not something I can answer-”

“What’s the requirement to be researcher for Oscorp?” asked Ionello

“Well there’s a steep requirement with your college grades, experience and-”

“Have they tried recreating the super soldier serum that made Captain America?” Murphy asked

“A-actually all attempts to recreate the serum are ille-”

“Are we allowed to use the holographic enzyme interaction simulator?”

And then there more and more questions going at rapid fire that the poor tour guide was left looking wide eyed at the excited group of high schoolers that were asking very intelligent questions that looked like it was above his payroll. Peter still deciding if he should still ask the tour guide (hey he wanted to ask his own questions) but the poor guy looked ready to run away, when a smooth baritone spoke up above the clamor, cutting off one kid’s of _have you guys ever designed babies here?_ just as he stepped from a door that Peter didn’t notice was open.

“I see you have everything under control Mr. Dillon?” The man who spoke sounded like he was trying to hold back his laugh. The tour guide (who was apparently named Dillon and maybe Peter forgot because he was in the _Oscorp labs_ ) gave out a relieved sigh.

“Dr. Connors! Perfect timing sir.”

And that had Peter freezing in shock and quickly pushing his way to the front because _Oh my God that’s Dr. Curtis Connors himself!_ and everyone else started pushing forward, with Peter once again lost in the group. The tall brunet stepped smoothly towards the group, the missing arm already a dead giveaway to his identity. He gave them a friendly smile, somehow completely ignoring the 10 high school students that were openly gawking at him. Dillon the tour guide extricated himself from their group and hurriedly went to Dr. Connors side.

“It seems I might have broken them.” That had Peter suddenly awaken from his trance of _oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god_ and joined in at the ripple of laughter at Dr. Connor’s joke.

“Not really sir. I think they’re just a little star struck.” Now that Peter would agree.

“Well let’s get this show on the road,” said Dr. Connors with that friendly smile. “Good morning, students of Midtown School of Science and Technology. My name is Dr. Curtis Connors.”

There was a chorus of excited “good morning Dr. Connors” from the group that had Dr. Connors chuckling.

“I am a scientist and the world’s foremost authority on herpetology and am currently the head of the experimental biomedical arm of Oscorp’s R&D division.” He took a small pause, for dramatic effect Peter thought, and gave them a playful grin.

“And for those of you who are wondering, I am a southpaw.”

There was laughter throughout the group, even Mr. Harrington cracked a smile.

“Do not think of me as a cripple though,” he continued, “because I am not helpless. I am after all a scientist. And scientists are warriors. Explorers seeking new knowledge, and the secrets of the universe.”

 _‘This guy knows how to give a monologue’_ Peter whispered in the back of mind that wasn’t busy with fanboying over Dr. Connors.

“But like the Parkinson’s patient who watches on in horror as her body slowly betrays her, or the man with macular degeneration, whose eyes grow dimmer each day, I long to fix myself.” There was another dramatic pause. “I want to create a world without weakness.”

 _‘Holy crap, he is good!’_ Peter thought.

“This is the goal of our research here at Oscorp,” he gestured with his only hand towards the other scientists busy at work, “To create the future of humanity. The next step in human evolution.”

‘ _He is REALLY good!’_

“Anyone care to venture a guess just how?” Dr. Connors asked. There was a flurry of movement from the group, and Peter’s hand got lost in the forest of annoyingly taller big kids. He heard Dr. Connors call one of them, but Peter could barely see anything so he wasn’t sure if it was him.

“Stem cells?” came a timid reply. Peter cursed, in his head of course because Aunt May taught him better, because CJ Vogel said his answer.

“Promising,” said Dr. Connors, “but not quite what I had in mind.”

“Is it organ printing?” was Avril’s reply. “Like the one Dr. Helen Cho is using?

“Technically, Dr. Helen Cho is researching on the use of stimulating rapid and controlled tissue growth _on_ the human body, not separate to it.” Dr. Connors looked at each of them individually and Peter strained to catch his gaze, still stuck between the taller teen bodies. “And it’s close. But the solution I’m thinking of is something else. Something stranger. Something more... radical.”

The mysterious, and once again very dramatic, way he stated that had everyone in a flurry. There were a bunch of other answers, cybernetic enhancements, induced telomerase activity, the super soldier serum (this had Dr. Connors chuckling), but it apparently wasn’t what Dr. Connors was waiting for. Which got Peter thinking, what is the guy looking for? Something about his research probably? They were in _his_ research facility (technically Oscorps but still). There were a lot of things Dr. Connor was known for, what could he possibly be-

And then, Peter had a light bulb moment.

“No one?” he asked the confused crowd. He gave small sigh and turned away. “Well then, I suppose I’ll have to show-”

“Cross species genetics!”

Peter’s shout had Dr. Connors pausing, and the students around him jumping, and facing back to his group. He made a cursory glance at the each of the students before his eyes locked unto Peter. The crowd suddenly moved, following Dr. Connor’s gaze, and they all cleared to show Peter still excitedly holding his hand up that was hidden by the taller kid in front of him.

“You’re talking about cross species genetics!” Peter said enthusiastically, “The technique of combining genes of different species into one organism to give that organism the evolutionary benefits the others had. Like the regenerative abilities of lizards, the ability of zebra fish to induce cellular differentiation on command, the immortal jellyfish and its ability to revert to its immature stage and be functionally immortal.”

He noticed that the rest of the tour group, Dillon the tour guide, and some of the other scientists were staring at him. The attention on Peter was causing him to squirm as he slowly lowered his hand and fiddled with his necklace in a nervous gesture. Even Dr. Connors said nothing, staying wide eyed, before he finally found his voice. “Yes that is it. That’s the answer I was looking for.”

Peter beamed at that, feeling much more comfortable and very proud of himself, ignoring the sneer coming from Ionello’s group, as Dr. Connor walked closer to him. Peter realized how tall Dr. Connors was when he was forced to lookup enough that his neck was complaining. And then he kneeled on front of Peter, which had Peter mentally sigh in relief.

“How did,” he started then paused as he looked at Peter in disbelief, “how did you know all that?”

Peter smiled brightly at him then grabbed a book from his backpack to show him a print out of a research paper entitled ‘ _Cross species genetics: A new method for induced cellular regeneration’,_ the words _written by Dr. Curtis Connors_ just below the title. “I’ve read your research on the subject. And all other papers you’ve written on it."

Dr. Connors still had that wide eyed look on his face, gazing at Peter with intense curiosity, and asked in a quiet voice, “How on earth did you manage to understand my writings? Most of my college students, even some of my researchers, have a hard time understanding the material.”

Peter blushed at that, rubbing the back of his head as he lowered his gaze shyly. “I just understand it I guess.” He gave Dr. Connors a shrug.

There was a sudden laugh, and Peter looked up to see Dr. Connors giving Peter a wide, disbelieving smile. With his focus still intense, he asked Peter in a voice barely above a whisper, “Who are you?”

“Peter Parker,” he replied quietly. The wide eyed look in Dr. Connor’s eyes got even wider, if that was even possible.

“Peter... Parker?” he whispered, almost incredulous. Peter was starting to feel a little uncomfortable at the attention, and there was an almost crazed look in Dr. Connor’s eyes.

“Yep,” Mr. Harrington suddenly intruded, catching both their attention, and Peter felt his shoulders drop in relief. “Ten years old and already in the most advance science classes in Midtown Tech.”

“Ten years old? You understood my research papers while you’re still ten years old?” His attention was back on Peter now and it was with even greater astonishment than before.

“Yes sir, that’s our Peter Parker. Midtown’s current best and brightest.” Mr. Harrington smiled proudly at that, while Peter was busy wanting to hide his blush against the glares he could definitely feel were coming from the other teens.

Dr. Connor’s just stared in amazement at Peter before gently rising to his feet. He brought out his left hand and Peter was left staring at it before he raised his eyes up to the scientist who was now smiling much more friendly, with a more curious look in his eye.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Parker,” he said smoothly, “I hope to expect great things from you.”

And then Peter’s fanboying went back to full force because he was being complimented by _Dr. Curtis Connors_.

“Th-thank you Mister-I mean Dr. Connors! Nice to meet you too!”

 _‘Holy crap is this really happening right now?!’_ was playing in Peter’s head as he eagerly grasped the other man’s hand in what was probably too enthusiastic of a handshake. The scientist didn’t mind though, letting out a chuckle before bringing his hand on Peter’s head and ruffling it and _holy crap he was being head ruffled by Dr. Connors._

As Peter pushed his glasses back to his face, he decided that this was officially the best day of his life, second to being rescued by Iron Man.

 

* * *

 

Thor was, _of course,_ stuck in another on of Loki’s traps. And of course, like the buffoon he was, he fell into its grasp. Now, falling from the sky, locked in a container, stuck in free fall as his body kept on flipping and slamming unto the internal surface, _every_ surface in fact, of the cage, Thor realized that he really needed to learn not to fall for Loki’s tricks. Of course, a thousand years have passed and he still hasn’t learned. Falling to his probable (not absolute because let’s be honest he’s had worse) death, Thor promised that the next time he saw Loki, he was going to leave him out in the sun to cook while Mjolnir kept him in place.

Speaking of his hammer, he held tight unto Mjolnir, and grabbed unto a ledge just before it spun away. He then placed his hand on the glass to keep himself from being thrown off, as well as have enough leverage for what he was about to do. With a quick push from him and a powerful tug by Mjolnir, he was flying, aiming for the crack already present in the glass when he tried to get out (which of course failed as well since he was an _idiot_ ). It only took a moment of adrenaline in his veins, the rotation of the cage, the sound of glass shattering, and the feeling of the wind in his hair, before he was crashing onto the ground, buffeted of course by his flight.

He lied there, panting from the momentary fear. And then he was shaking with fury. Always betrayed. Always tricked. And always a fool when it came to Loki. Thor berated himself for being so irrational and blind to his brother’s tricks. Now he was lost, in some field in the middle of who knows where, battered and infuriated, all the while Loki is traipsing somewhere with a key to opening a portal to release an unholy army unto the unsuspecting world of Midgard.

_Recompense for your failures. Blood demanding blood._

Thor shook the dark whispers from his mind and tried to focus on the task at hand. Loki would not stop at achieving his goal, to rule Midgard as its king. Even if he would only rule ashes. And that is something he cannot allow. Grabbing Mjolnir from the ground, he let the ancient magic flow, the forces of nature around him falling to the call of Mjolnir, feeling his strength return. Summoning a bolt of lightning, he let his powers change his clothes to strong Asgardian armor, and with the summoning of the winds, he flew into the air.

He let himself feel for the familiar energy of the Tesseract, using Mjolnir’s strength as well as his own to expand his senses. Any spike of energy, any pulse of radiation, he scanned for until... aha! With a direction in mind, he followed the source, pushing as much as he can into his flight to get there as soon as possible. The closer he got, the louder the sounds of destructions came, which spurned Thor on even more.

_Recompense for your sins. The ghosts of catastrophe will always follow you._

“No. Not today,” he whispered back.

 

* * *

 

Curtis Connors watched from his perch behind the lab table as the Midtown students had their own fun. Some of them were busy asking questions to the other researchers. Some of them were already doing their best to fiddle with the very expensive, very much off-limits, and unfortunately inaccessible-unless-you-had-the-right-key-card, research and medical equipment. He had to stifle a laugh when Dillon noticed the group and started dragging them away as they loudly complained. So many young minds. So many intelligent future researchers. But out of all of the brightest of Midtown, one kid was keeping his attention the most.

_Peter Parker_

The small (oh so small even for someone of his age) youth was busy chatting up a storm with one of his researchers, one of his group leaders for the bioreactor project. The boy had a bright smile on his face as his mouth moved a mile a minute, absently fixing the glasses that went askew. He couldn’t hear what they were talking about since he was far away, but judging from the intelligent and awakened gleam in the researcher’s eyes, it must be something truly enlightening.

_His name is Parker. Could it be?_

He willed those thoughts away and returned to his observation. Another group was harassing another researcher with questions. And just so happened to be the shy one with how flushed and nervous the person was already. Maybe he should step in, just to satiate some curious kids? And then a small body joined the group, Peter Parker jumping up to probably get his own inquiries heard.

The boy had the intelligence, but paired with an innocent cheer that Richard never had. He didn’t have the same intense eyes nor the same firm frown that always marred Richard’s face. He has Mary’s chocolate eyes and her familiar smile. Her soft edges and the mischievous ways. He had that same glint in his eyes. Hell, he even seemed to have gotten Mary’s myopia. But could it possibly be true? So unlikely and yet hear it was right in front of him-

Something vibrated in his pocket. Reaching for it revealed his phone receiving a message. The name of the sender caused a grimace to bloom on his face.

_Connors, I’ll be needing the results of the next trials by next week. Mr. Osborn grows impatient with you._

_\- Rajit Ratha_

Curtis felt the joy at seeing young minds at work slowly fade away at the executive officer’s message. At the reminder of how he sold his soul for his research. Now here he was, pressure on all side, zero results to show. He could already feel the headache coming along. 

No, focus on the tour group. Better to have more positivity. With that in mind, he stood from the nearby table, ready to assist in answering the curious questions of the students-

The lights suddenly went out. Emergency lights immediately turned on. There was a systemic sound of machines turning off, doors to sensitive equipment closing automated. There was a whimper and Curtis turned to the group of kids that were frozen in their spots as the machines around them slowly died and the only thing remaining was the emergency lights along the walls, pathways, and ceiling, bathing the room in a softly white glow.

“What’s happening?” one of the students asked. Curtis himself wanted to answer that question. He grabbed his phone and dialed the lobby to ask what was going on.

And then an explosion shook the building. Hard enough to rattle the glass walls. Another explosion sounded, distant like the first one yet it’s effects ever present as the shaking of the floor was even more violent. More explosions followed, which caused the children to start whimpering and huddling together. They were all frozen in fear when a very large explosion suddenly sounded from the far end of the laboratory. They all turned as one to the source. What was once a thick 3-feet wall of concrete was now a gaping and smoking hole. And from that hole came... honestly Curtis didn’t know how to describe it.

Vaguely humanoid in shape, covered head to toe with an odd metal suit, something like armor. A strange machine (is that a gun?) on its arm. And the face covered by a metal mask. It hobbled on strange legs covered in strange metal armor and gray skin. And then it lifted its faceplate and something...evil and demonic and _not human not human at all_ was staring back at him. And Curtis was so busy being shocked at the face that he didn’t notice as one of them lifted up its arms, pointed the strange device to one of them. And fired.

 

* * *

 

Thor could only hold his scream of frustration and regret at the sight of the bright Midgardian city slowly being turned into a land of rubble. He let his anger loose through the errant bolts of lightning and fury that flew from him and into any of the creatures that were currently wreaking havoc. He continued his path, following the source of the power surge, and saw a large beam of energy shooting towards the heavens and opening a gateway into the void of space. The Chitauri were flowing out of the hole like water, more and more following the next. He could see the Man of Iron battling them with his weapons. And while Thor knew of the other’s intellect, he knew that he would be overpowered soon. Which is why it needed to be ended at the very root.

He landed on a platform of a nearby tower, the sounds of chaos and destruction all around him. His heart clenched for the fear he could hear so loud and desperate from the Midgardians below. His blood boiled at the sight of his brother, shining in his robes and regalia, standing like a king at his dais. A mad king watching as the world burned into ashes around him. An uncaring statue, ignorant to the pleas below. Something tired and angry was spurned to life at the sight.

“Loki!” he bellowed to the green figure. His brother peered down at him in barely concealed surprise, which gave him a dark satisfaction. He pointed to the top of the building where the machine behind the chaos resided.

“Turn off the Tesseract before I destroy it!”

“You can’t!” Loki replied quickly, a manic gleam in his eyes. “There is no stopping it.” Loki pointed his scepter at Thor and told him with a cruel grin, “There is only the war.”

A heavy feeling settled in his chest, besides the fire of rage. His brother seeks war? His brother wishes for battle?

“So be it,” Thor replied.

With a war cry, Loki attacked Thor, scepter moving with a deadly grace as Thor countered with his hammer. They fought with both weapon and magic as lightning from his hammer and the power of Loki’s scepter would clash and destroy parts of the building of which they stood. The metal of Mjolnir clashed loudly with the golden scepter, every swing Thor would make was dodged by Loki’s grace. Every attack Loki took was easily batted away or blocked by Thor and Mjolnir. And they continued their deadly dance until the sounds of aircraft joined them.

Thor looked to the source and saw the crafts of SHIELD flying beside them, with weapons out, and the familiar faces of the warrior Natasha and Captain Rogers through the front windows. He was only able to think ‘ _Leave you fools!’_  before Loki was shoving him away and aiming his scepter at the aircraft. The bullets they fired did nothing against Loki’s armor, but the power of the scepter was enough to destroy one of the engines. Smoke and fire belched out of the wings, it’s gait turning unsteady. Thor could not let the other engine get destroyed, so he bodily tackled Loki so that both their weapons were far from reach, letting his fists and rage be his weapon, hoping that his Midgardian comrades were safe.

Loki tried to counter his attacks, but his skills were never in melee combat, allowing Thor to continue his barrage of punches and kicks, wanting to just have Loki fall, to yield to him. To simple end all of this.

A load moan shook the sky. Guttural and ear deafening, the sound reverberated through the air. It made Thor pause and seek its origin, eyes opening wide to the sight. The Leviathan flew down from the void, so eerily graceful despite its size. And its voice was powerful and earth-shaking as it let out another cry before attacking the city in earnest. The sight of the humongous metallic beast flying through the sky made Thor pause.

Loki had used his distraction to grab for the scepter. Thor noticed a little too late, unable to stop Loki grab the scepter, scrambling for his hammer instead. And in just the nick of time too as the blade suddenly sliced downwards, close enough to open his face. He pushed against it and they continued their battle once again, metal against metal, hammer against scepter, brother against brother.

The sounds of destruction surrounded them like a sick symphony for their dance. They clashed and left sparks and rubble in their wake. Thor saw an opening, and gave one large push and managed to grab the lower half of the scepter, and using his hammer to push at the top, kept the blade in place. They were now both locked into a battle of strength, one Thor knew he could win. He pushed and he saw Loki’s knees begin to buckle and his face strain with the effort to keep him at bay. He just pushed harder, only now with both his words and his strength.

“Look at this!” Thor shouted, the crackle of energy weapons shooting their ammo and the sounds of explosions surrounding them. “Look around you! Do you think this madness will end with your rule?!”

Loki turned his head back to him, and the fevered look of blood lust faded away to fear. His eyes shined with unshed tears and his face lost the twists of insanity and Thor knew that his sobriety was setting in.

“It’s too late,” Loki said, angry at first but then petering out into a whisper, “It’s too late to stop it.”

Some part of Thor screamed at him not to listen, but Thor’s heart was too large, forgiveness easy to fall from his lips at the sight of his brother trembling before him.

“No. We can stop it. Together.” Thor smiled at him, and Loki smiled back. He ignored the whispers that told him _Don’t trust him_ because hope was blooming in his chest and that maybe just maybe Loki would finally-

Pain lanced through his side and Thor felt himself kneel in pain. He heard a whispered voice say “Sentiment” and the pain faded away as he was filled with a familiar rage, stronger and powerful and bordering on sorrow.

 _‘How dare you!_ ’ he shouted in his mind. He suddenly grabbed at Loki’s helmet to keep him steady. And with swiftness, he kicked Loki through the large window and bodily picked him up just to slam him down to the ground.

 _‘How dare you brother!’_ he cried in his soul, pain clenching his heart. He looked at the figure of his brother, thinking him unconscious, before it suddenly rolled away and down to the ground below. Thor felt panic and followed, only to see Loki riding one of the Chitauri’s light attack craft flying away. Thor felt the fire of his anger ebb and replaced by the ever familiar exhaustion of pain and regret and self-loathing for _once again falling for Loki’s tricks!_

But today was not the time to flagellate one’s soul. He grabbed Mjolnir from the ground and lifted into the sky, letting his righteous fury power him through the heaviness settling in his soul. Better to let the fires keep him burning. And hopefully his fury was enough to save this world from Loki’s schemes.

 

* * *

 

Peter was running. Down the halls of Oscorp tower. He didn’t know what floor he was on, the emergency lights that he had been using as his guide had gone out. He could hear the sounds of people screaming and the roars of the...monsters. There was another explosion, more screams, and Peter was pushing his legs, running further and further into the belly of Oscorp. Far away from the labs, and from those things. He had to stop as his lungs burned with the need for air, his hand grasping at a nearby wall. He took in large gulps, his heart racing in his chest, and adrenaline still coursing through his veins as he willed himself to calm down and try not to have an asthma attack in the middle of...whatever the heck was happening. 

_Strange metallic armor that glinted under the fluorescent lights of the laboratories. Weapons that glowed with an infernal blue energy, ripping the lab apart with ease. The sound of people screaming and panicking, trying to get away. The crackle of energy and the sizzling of flesh. Bodies falling around him. The smell of burnt flesh and blood and Peter was frozen and he needed to run, to get out, to get out NOW, except he can’t move and then one of them was pointing its spears and there was the whine of energy, and suddenly BAM somebody pushed him away and the blast destroyed the table behind him as he was pulled by whoever saved him out of the room and into the hallway but there was the whine again and his savior fell to the ground and Peter looked and saw blood so much blood, blood everywhere, and oh God the smell and he wanted to puke but the sound of their weapons was back and his body decided for him as he took off into the hallways and far away, the sounds of fire and destruction still following him, he hid in the shadows and ran and ran and ran-_

His thoughts were disrupted by the sound of a screech, alien and frightening, and he was off running again. He tried to do his best to look for directions, which was hard because all the lights were still out and the hallways didn’t have any windows, only glass and concrete. There was another explosion and suddenly light started pouring in as the walls were destroyed by something large and metal, slicing through the concrete like butter. He curled into a ball to shield himself as the thing passed, and he had just enough time to see a large gigantic, _holy shit that thing’s flying!,_ creature covered in metal before there was the familiar sizzle of the monster’s weapons and he was off running again. He took another turn, and then when he saw the fire exit, ran in and climbed down, the fire exit door slamming loudly behind him. But then there were sounds of scuttling and roars below him and he was climbing up instead. He kept on climbing, the nerves frazzled and breathing hard, grasping at the metal rails of the stair well to keep him from falling, but there was another explosion above and he stopped. The explosions got louder above, and the sounds of the monsters below were coming up and Peter knew he was well if he didn’t get out of there _now!_

He ran out the stair well, door broken and barely hanging on its hinges, and ran into another deserted hallway, scorch marks on the walls, frosted glass shattered, and the disgusting stench of sizzling meat in the air. Peter tried to block it all out, especially the familiar silhouettes that resembled bodies, and just looked for the nearest door, open room, maybe a vent, _anything,_ until he found a big sliding door that was ajar. There was a keypad next to it with a slot for the key card he had seen the Oscorp staff were using,

_Thick steel, key pads, dead guy (oh god that was a dead guy) trying to open it? Maybe a good place to hide?_

Any thoughts were flushed away as there was another rumble and screeching from the far end of the hall and Peter was pulling at the edges of the door, trying to ignore the corpse he had to push out of the way. He then grasped at an indent in the door, set his foot on the floor and _pushed_.

The door barely budged.

He pushed again and it barely moved an inch. There was _boom_ from far away, followed by the screeching hiss of the monsters and Peter tried to pull at the handle again. But the door kept up its resistance. He pushed and pushed but the door stubbornly refused to shut. Another _boom_ and _crash_ and he heard the hissing creatures louder now, probably in the hallway just outside the door. He frantically started pushing harder while eyes tried to find the reason why the _stupid thing wasn’t moving!_

There was the sound of shattering glass, the hiss and screech of the creatures and the crunch of their footsteps that were now _very close_. Peter’s heart started beating faster and he pushed harder. And maybe it was the added adrenaline of the fear of imminent death, but Peter somehow found the strength in his 10-year-old body to _push_ hard enough that the door suddenly slid closed with a large thud of metal. There was a clicking sound from the door and then it was finally shut tight.

The sounds outside were muffled by the thick steel of the door, which could also mean that Peter wouldn’t be heard. Still, he waited stiffly until the sounds faded away, finally letting the breath he was holding. Now that he was safe, Peter wondered why everything looked foggy before realizing that his glasses were dirty. Quickly wiping them clean on his shirt, he decided to take stock of his surroundings.

He was in a large square room lit by the emergency lights along the edges of the walls and in the four corners. There was lab equipment everywhere, some Peter recognized, other’s that he only had a grasping knowledge of. A laminar flow cabinet sat in one corner next to a desk, and a machine that made the hologram of enzyme interaction that he saw earlier in the other corner. The far wall of one of the rooms was nothing but glass, its contents hidden since the lights from inside weren’t turned on. In the middle of the room were rows of glass boxes, stacked on top of each other.

He walked to the center of the maze of boxes and cautiously approached one of the boxes and peered inside. The minor illumination from the emergency lights above was enough for Peter to see something scamper in the darkness of the box. He wiped his glasses clean again and took a closer look, careful to not get too close. There was a scurrying sound coming from the box, and as Peter got closer, something slammed into the glass.

Peter jumped back, and whatever was inside the glass was suddenly trying to get out, thumping against the glass almost in an agitated manner. And as suddenly as it attacked, it stopped, slid down the glass, and stayed there on the ground (covered in what looked like sand now that Peter noticed), unmoving. Once Peter’s heart slowed down from the unexpected surprise, he took a closer look at whatever it was that jumped out, and saw eight lo legs and the black beady eyes of a very large spider. It sat still as a statue, and Peter wondered if the spider was looking at _him._ And maybe he was gonna go crazy because he almost died from a huge alien trying to shoot him with a laser gun.

He slowly backed away from the very creepy spider, only to run into the row of cages behind him. This startled the whatever was inside it. There were more sounds scurrying as the entire room of cages came to life with whatever they held.

“What. The. Hell.” Peter whispered, making a 360 as he listened every single animal in the cages stir. “Were the heck am I?”

Peter slowly backed away from the real life Little Shop of Horrors in front of him and tried to find a clipboard, an open computer, or anything that could explain what he just trapped himself in. He decided to read the label underneath the cages.

“Subject 36. Cross species Blue Mountains funnel-spider ( _Hadronyche versuta)_ x Immortal jellyfish ( _Turritopsis dohrnii).”_

Wait what?

Peter reread that sentence again. And again. And then turned to the cage beside it to read the label.

“Subject 37. Cross species Darwin’s bark spider _(Caerostris darwini)_ x Electric eel ( _Electrophorus electricus)_.”

Peter looked at the cage, only just noticed that the entire box was filled with water. And the spider was actually _swimming_ in the water. He turned to another cage and saw a spider weaving webs that were glowing softly. Another was seemingly empty for dirt before there was movement and a spider appeared, it’s exoskeleton suddenly shifting from the browns of the soil to a lighter hue. There was another spider that had an extra set of legs before those legs opened and turned out to be _wings._ And that was when he realized where he was.

 _‘Holy crap,’_ Peter thought, ‘ _I’m in the cross species genetics lab!’_

A smile bloomed on his face because this was a life time opportunity! This was the work of Dr. Curtis Connors himself, in the flesh, right in front of him. This is so the best day of his lif-

There was a loud explosion somewhere and Peter was suddenly thrown around by the shaking it caused. He bodily slammed to one of the rows, knocking down some of the cages. The sudden impact with the cages, and subsequently the floor, left Peter in a daze. Which was why he didn’t notice that his glasses had flown of his head. Or that he was surrounded by broken glass. Or that some of the spiders had now escaped and were beginning to crawl up his arms and legs. He did notice a pain on his head. Reaching up, he felt something wet and came back to the sight of blood, appearing black in the low lights of the room.

He was bleeding. Peter knew that was bad, but somehow he couldn’t help but stare at the sight of his own blood on his fingers. Shouldn’t he be doing something right now to deal with it? Like put pressure or something?

Whatever remnant of thought he had was suddenly banished when a sharp pain lanced through him, radiating from his neck. He grabbed for the sore spot, and felt something hit his hand. He looked at where it landed and saw a spider, small, the bright blue and red in color, scurry away. The place where it bit him throbbed as he placed his hand over it. He gingerly checked the spot with his fingers, wincing at the pain.

 _‘Well this can’t get any worse’_ he thought.

And then there was more pain, this time from his palm, and turning it around revealed a gash that was also bleeding. He looked at what could have caused it and saw the glass littering the floor around him.

‘ _Where the heck did all this glass come from? It wasn’t there before.’_

The answer to his question came from another pain that lanced through his hand. He immediately grabbed it and saw that _another_ spider had bit him. The eight legged _bastard_ was currently hanging by a thread of silk from the bite mark, and he immediately grabbed the string and threw the spider away. But then another spider bit him, on the leg, and then another on his hip, and he was scrambling to stand, batting at his body as he finally noticed the spiders that had begun crawling on and _under_ his clothes. Which meant that the glass came from the cages. Which meant that he had crashed through the cages, releasing the very experimental super spiders that had just bit him and were now trying to crawl through his pants.

Peter realized this as he was frantically whacking at anything crawling up him, shaking his arms and legs furiously, and his entire body flailing wildly to get rid of the eight legged creepy crawlies. Apparently it was enough because Peter only had to bat one very big spider that had crawled up his shoulder (and it was glowing by the way) before he was finally spider free, most of them having scurried away. But the sudden spike of adrenaline he felt was overpowered by a wave of dizziness.

Peter felt himself wobble as his head got fuzzier and fuzzier. His vision was beginning to fade in and out. The spider bites, his head injury, the cut on his palm, they all faded as he slowly felt himself sway unbalanced and the feeling in his arms and legs slowly recede. The venom must have started to take effect. Super spiders and super venom. He only had a moment to think ‘ _Oh shit’_ before he was falling to his knees.

He held out his hands to stop himself from falling face first into the glass covered floor, only managing to get himself cut in the process. He somehow managed to place himself in a sitting position, against a nearby table leg, as he slowly felt himself go in and out of consciousness. He could feel his body get more sluggish by the second, could hear his own heart beat begin to slow. And that was when Peter realized he might actually _die._

Fear suddenly gripped his heart, just as slow and lethargic, and he could do nothing but cry as he the thought that he was gonna die all alone, in a lab filled with genetically modified spiders while aliens and monsters were attacking people outside. He dimly felt the tears leave his eyes as sobs and whimpers broke through his lips. His breath started coming out in quick gasps, both from his internal panic and for air, as he could feel his chest get heavier and constricted.

Peter was going to die here. Peter was going to _die here._

_No please no. I don’t want to die yet._

But his body did not listen, only shut down ever so slowly. He distantly heard the crunch of glass and turned his head to the door. There was a high pitched whine and suddenly the doors were blasted in and those aliens started walking in. He could barely muster any energy to move, let alone to react, letting the fear that was growing to suddenly overwhelm him. All the terror, anxiety, dread, anger, self-loathing, all of it was like a tsunami that swept everything away.

Because he was going to die here. Peter Parker was going to die all alone.

Peter’s last thought was ‘ _I’m sorry Aunt May. I’m sorry Uncle Ben,’_ before he was consumed by the darkness.

 

* * *

  

“He is fading my liege.”

The man said nothing, staring blankly at the stars as he stood impassively beside the one who had spoken.

“He is not long for this world.”

Still the man did not speak, mute by choice to the words of the other. The speaker also stood stoically, and could be mistaken as unbothered. Yet the man knew the other well. He could feel the displeasure rolling of the other, the anger hidden by the quiet apathy. Still the man did not speak, letting his silence tell what words could not. And he knew the other understood. And the man understood why the other was furious.

“The boy has fallen your highness.”

The speaker was still stoic, yet the man knew that there was sorrow, Tears were not shed but he knew. For he too felt it, deep in his heart. Another burden to add to his shoulders.

The man moved smoothly, walking from his perch and leaving the other behind. And the speaker remained, eyes open and unblinking, gazing out to the stars. But there was mourning behind them, a quiet grief that was no less daunting and profound. And through this pain the speaker remained impassive. Even as the boy’s tears fell openly, as his breath slowed into nothing, as his heart petered into silence, the speaker was unmoving. For the speaker could only watch as the young and bright star faded from the sky.

 

* * *

 

 

  _He was floating. There was nothing around him_

_Just the black_

_Everywhere_

_All darkness_

 

_Empty_

 

_Nothing and nothing and nothing_

 

_No feeling_

 

_No pain_

 

_No fear_

 

_Nothing_

 

 

_Just him_

 

 

_Only him_

 

 

 _Nothi_ _ng but him_

 

 

_Darkness_

 

_Abyss_

 

 

_Empty_

 

 

 

_Alone_

 

 

 

_And then_

_Light_

 

_Heat_

 

_A spark_

_Stars and light and shining_

 

_Darkness chased away by bright rays_

_Emptiness filled by power_

_Energy and life and fire and spark and light and so much light_

_Light and lightning and electricity coursing through him_

_And feeling returns, fear and anger returns, and sorrow and joy and pain and freedom and emotion, emotion, so much EMOTION_

_Lightning and light and energy and life and heat and power in full force_

_And lightning_

_Storms_

_The rain and the wind and the crackle of lightning_

_Then a loud clap of thunder_

And then Peter returned. He woke up with a large gasp, lungs reactivating and taking up huge gulps of air. He lied there, gasping like a fish as he tried to breathe in as much of the air as he can. As much as his _living_ body can. Because holy crap he was _alive._ He was alive. He didn’t die. And that was something Peter couldn’t wrap his head around, both the dying and the living, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with it so he just focused on gulping his air and letting his heart restart or maybe slow down because he felt like it was both trying to explode and fight its way back to life. And he lied there panting and very much alive and Peter wanted to laugh or cry, maybe cry because that’s more appropriate since he’s shedding tears for his own resurrection.

There was a sudden hiss. Looking up, Peter saw that more of those creatures had begun entering the room. They walked confidently, crunching the glass and metal under their feet. That was when Peter saw how _many_ they were and that they were all in the room. And he was alone with them, still lying on the ground and face covered in tears. Very much vulnerable.

Carefully lifting himself from the ground, he slowly crawled away from the sight of the aliens, crab-walking backwards. He kept up his pace until he felt himself collide with something solid. He looked behind him and saw a metal boot connected to a leg covered in gray skin, weird metal armor. He followed that leg upwards, connected to a torso also covered in metallic, _alien_ armor, and then to a head that was slowly turning towards him. And a metal face plate was facing him, with inhuman eyes that simply stared at him. They stayed that way for small moment, before Peter was up and running.

The alien screeched, and then there was the wine of energy as Peter felt the alien shoot at him. He dives into a roll before swiftly jumping back to run again. By then, more of the aliens had seen him, and they all started to shoot at him. The energy from their weapons blew apart the cages and equipment. Peter almost stopped and gasped in horror (because so much research was just lost!) before he had to slide under a table and out before a laser blast almost killed him.

He jumped and ducked and rolled and tried his best to dodge the Blue Blasts Of Death that was gonna turn him to a ‘Peter Parker en flambe’. He honestly thought he was doing a good job at not dying. But then he felt danger coming and was too slow to react before he got hit by a lucky shot.

He went down in an instant, his shoulder scorching with pain. He could feel the flesh burning, instantly cauterized. He could feel the remaining energy from the laser blast sizzling his nerves, and it was all he could do to not writhe in pain, letting out a scream instead. He felt the aliens aim for him and he jumped out of the way as the spot he just lied on was blown to dust.

His shoulder protested the movement but he tried to push it down, more adrenaline pumping through him as he tried to run away. But he had to jump back as the floor in front of him was destroyed. More shots followed as he quickly backed up, only to have to jump behind a nearby counter as energy blasts rained fire unto where he once stood, cement dust from the wrecked floor creating a cloud of cover.

He was breathing hard, both from the pain and the exertion of not dying. He could hear the aliens walk towards him, probably looking for him through the dust. Peter kept silent, covering his mouth with his hand to hide his loud breathing. He could hear them getting closer, shattering glass and clinking metal boots getting louder and louder. Peter’s heart is racing in his chest, and he wants to scream in at how _helpless_ and _weak_ he is. He might have survived getting bitten by genetically modified spiders, but he was still gonna die and there was nothing he could do about it.

He was so puny, so weak. So powerless. So broken and worthless. So incredibly insignificant. So alone.

There was nothing he could do.

 

_Yes there is_

A spark. There was something inside of Peter. Something was calling to him. He could feel it. Beneath his skin, pulsing. It was weak, but it was something. Whatever it was broke through the panic settling in his mind.

 

_You are not worthless_

 

It beckoned him. Not with an actual voice, but he instinctively knew what it was saying. He could _feel_ what it was telling him and he just _knew_. He knew it in the bottom of his heart and the depths of his soul. It was calling to him.

 

_You are not alone_

There was a spark, a flash of light really, between his fingers. It caught Peter’s attention, and he could feel the...whatever it was that was calling him was behind it. There was another flash, more light and sparks, Peter could feel an energy beginning to thrum in his veins. It was building under his skin and seeping into his bones. It weaved through his muscles and cells and bounded itself to his very atoms and Peter just _knew_ that it was all because of the call. Of the thing he knew that he had, he was so intimately connected.

 

_No, just you_

_All you_

The energy was rising within him, and more sparks and lights came from him. And then there were arcs of electricity climbing up his arms and dancing on his palms. He could feel strength flood his body and settle comfortably in him. And he could still hear it and it filled him with a sense of peace because _it was true._ That he wasn’t alone. That he wasn’t broken. That he wasn’t weak.

 

_Now you see_

And then there was a loud explosion and Peter felt himself be thrown away, out of his hiding spot and into the open. He coughed loudly as he quickly got up to his feet, and faced about a dozen aliens. Their weapons hummed as they charged, almost in anticipation for the kill.

 

_You have might_

 

They aimed their glowing weapons at him. But it was all so slow for Peter, the sound of their guns, the movement of their arms. They all moved in slow motion. Peter knew that time didn’t change, he knew this to be true, yet he could feel everything all at once, no matter how fast or slow. Seconds stretched and time made infinite. And in that infinite instantaneous moment, he knew instantly what to do.

_You have power_

The energy inside him built up once again. It rose and waved through him, living electricity crackling on his skin. It filled his arms and legs and all his muscles. Every cell in his body was bathed in it.

_You have strength_

The world still seemed to move so slow, even Peter. But he instinctively knew what he had to do. So he braced his legs, letting his strength steady him. He raised his arms, slow moving like the aliens lifting and aiming their guns at him. And as he felt the world slowly shift back, as the seconds compressed and time pulled into itself, as the hissing aliens and guns were ready to rip him to shreds, he let the power within him flow to his arms and palms and fingertips.

_Use it_

And in a single instant, he let it all go. The power in his fingers, the energy in his bones, was released as white hot lances through his hands. They jumped and arced through the air, spears of pure electricity and lightning, finding their targets with deadly accuracy. They crackled and sizzled and lit up the room like the very sun itself. And in the instant that it was unleashed to wreak its deadly force, it was gone.

The aliens where nothing more than smoking and charred bodies, their weapons reduced to ash and rubble. The floor, walls, and ceiling were covered in scorch marks, some from the alien’s guns, others much more fresh and smoking. Peter stood in the middle in the destruction, hands pushed out and palms still open, tiny spark and arcs of electricity climbing up his arms. He stared at them in disbelief. Like they weren’t his own. But he knew it was his. He knew it was real. That _that,_ the smoldering pile of metal and monster flesh, was all because of him.

As Peter lowered his arms slowly, he watched in hypnotized amazement as the lightning still dance on his skin. His young eyes were filled with curiosity and pure wonder. And somewhere deep within him, something settled. Something old and familiar, even though he’s never felt it before. Like a piece falling into place in a puzzle long forgotten. And in typical Parker fashion, he celebrated that fulfillment by excitedly jumping up and down, screaming “I just shot lightning from my hands!”, dancing in joy, knocking his foot on the corner of a counter, slipping, and falling forward into the arms of a dead alien.

Peter would forever deny, if anyone heard him, the bloodcurdling, high pitched scream of “Ew!” he let out.

 

* * *

 

Thor was in the middle of destroying a Leviathan with the Hulk when he felt it. The pull of magic, a familiar sensation. It was a scent of power and a feeling of the winds changing as _something_ was awakened. He kept an eye on his battle as he stretched his senses far, seeking out the source of the change. And then the pull was suddenly a tidal wave of energy, a familiar energy that called to him.

As Thor delivered the final blow to the Leviathan by driving its own armor into its skull, holding on tight as they crash landed, his mind and power answered the call. He felt his lightning stir and reach out, and there was a pull in his mind. A pull to seek out the source of the disturbance. To find the energy. To find the lightning that his very being was seeking out.

With a simple worded request to the Hulk to finish off the remaining enemies, Thor flew up into the air and traced where the magic was coming from. His flight led him to a building that was heavily damaged. He could see some of the Chitauri scuttle on the ground. With a simple summon, he called out Midgard’s clouds to rain down lightning on the unsuspecting fools as Thor glided into one of the gaping holes in the building’s side.

He took gentle but swift steps, trying not to catch the attention of any Chitauri for his mind was occupied the sensation that was guiding him. He walked through the mazes of rubble and melted steel until he found himself in a hallway littered with broken white glass. Bodies of Midgardians littered the floor, their blood soaking the tiles. At the end of the hallway was what once was a door only now a smoking pile of metal.

As Thor approached the opening, something jumped out. Thor instantly raised Mjolnir, already summoning lightning, when he realized what he was looking at. A small child, nay older than 10 years, was looking at him with wide frightened eyes. The child had an unruly mop of brown hair that was covered dust and glittering pieces of glass. Dirt and soot covered the boy’s pale face and clothes, and Thor could see that his palms were wet blood. There were tears in the boys eyes, looking lost amongst the carnage. Thor felt his heart clench at the sight.

He took slow steps towards the young child. The boy stayed still, seemingly frozen, and Thor took it as a sign to continue. As he approached, he took note of the stiff posture and the face stuck in a wide eyed expression. When Thor was finally within arms distance of the boy, he kneeled down gently, as to not startle him.

“Are you alright little one?” Thor asked softly. The boy nodded his head silently, still looking at Thor like he was a bilgesnipe ready to attack. He swept a critical eye over the boy’s form, taking stock of any injuries he might have. The boy was mostly covered in dust and bits of broken glass. His face was sweaty and causing the dirt to stick, large brown eyes wide and dazed making the boy look even more lost. The shoulder of his clothes was burnt but a closer look revealed no injury, only a minor reddening of the skin. He gently grasped the boy’s palms to learn the source of the blood, taking note of the cuts that were already closed.

“Do your wounds ail you?” Thor asked. The boy just stared at him, followed his gaze to his palms, and scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. He closed his palm quizzically before turning back to Thor with wide eyes.

“No they don’t,” the boy said in bewildered. Thor simply took it as a good sign, even if there was a confused light in the boy’s eyes.

“Come now, you are safe,” he told him. “I shall bring you to your Midgardian warriors called ‘police officers’ and they shall help you escape the destruction. It is not safe for a child like you to be here.”

The boy did not move, staring at Thor with that same wide eyed look, and Thor wondered if he might have to just forcibly take the boy because he had not the time to care for him, before the child nodded. Thor gave him a hopefully comforting smile before wrapping his arms around the boy and smoothly stand. The child wrapped his arms around Thor’s neck in surprise, and Thor only managed to murmur an apology before he was quickly walking out of the wreckage to look for an opening to fly out. It was because of his searching that he did not hear the quiet scuttle of pebbles behind him. Nor did he hear the soft hum of the Chitauri’s weapon.

But the boy did.

“Behind you!”

Thor quickly turned, immediately shielding the child, and threw Mjolnir. The fallen creature had but a moment to aim before Mjolnir crashed upon it and rendering it dead. The Chitauri soldier truly fell then, and Thor summoned his hammer, eyes more alert, and ears straining. That was how he heard the hiss behind him, and with a quick movement he blocked the blast headed for them with Mjolnir, and summoned the energy within the strike the soldier with lightning.

Except the soldier was already lanced with a bolt of electricity, writhing in pain before falling dead in a pile of smoking metal and flesh. Thor stared in surprise at the fallen soldier and turned to his head to where the bolt came from. His eyes brought him to the boy he was carrying, his little palms out in the direction of the Chitauri. And on the child’s very skin, lightning and electricity was dancing safely and not causing any harm.

Thor was left reeling. The power that rushed through the air was of a familiar flavor. The boy wielded Asgardian magic, freely and safely. It was impossible. Only Asgardians can wield that type of magic. And he had never seen a Midgardian present with the skills of elemental control. Midgard had yet to master the art. Who was this child who could command the powers of the sky? He could still feel that powerful pull; only know he could see where it was leading him.

As the boy lowered his arms and faced Thor, an embarrassed smile blooming on his face, Thor asked him one question out of the many that swam in his mind.

“Who are you?”

The boy smiled at him, strained and awkwardly, before answering.

“I’m Peter Parker. Who are you?”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO AND WELCOME TO THE UPDATE!!! 
> 
> To all those who enjoyed the first chapter, thank you!
> 
> For those who were excited for chapter 2, thank you even more!!
> 
> Keep supporting the story!
> 
> Enjoy!

The boy, Peter, was smiling at Thor and held his hand out. It was an innocent gesture that was almost surreal amidst the carnage around them. Neither worry nor fear but a simple joy and relief shined in young Peter’s eyes. It honestly left Thor, not rattled per say, but closer to confounded and stupefied by the situation. He managed to collect himself just enough to grasp the boy’s tiny hand and shake it.

“I am Thor, young one. Prince of Asgard.” he replied. Peter’s face scrunched up in confusion, before a twinkle of excitement appeared in the boy’s eyes, and he let out a blinding smile.

“Thor? Like the Norse God of Thunder?” he asked animatedly. At his nod, the boy suddenly exploded into noisy and rapid chatter that made Thor jump slightly in surprise.

“Are you a god? Is that why you’re here? Have you come here from Asgard to save us? I honestly thought maybe Jesus would come, but you’re a god too so maybe that counts? But I shouldn’t use the name of Jesus in vain. Aunt May says it’s disrespectful to Christians. But she uses it too so I’m not sure if that’s still valid. Do you use lightning like Zeus? How about thunder, can you make it thunder out of nowhere? How about rain, can you make it rain? Do tornadoes count as part of your powers?”

And on and on the boy’s babble went like the gurgle of a waterfall, bubbly and loud and continuous, not stopping even when Thor had to throw Mjolnir to disarm and incapacitate a line of Chitauri that had appeared in the hall.

“Are you an alien?” the boy continued, uncaring for the sudden flood of Chitauri who must have seen the lightning. Young Peter simply prattled on even as Thor hid behind a thick wall to block a hail of fire from the troop. “Because I read a theory on the internet that the gods were just super advanced aliens that influenced mankind, so is that what you are? What are you doing here now? Is it just because of the other aliens trying to wreck the city? Don’t you have your mothership to call for backup?”

A stray shot went through the wall, and that was Thor’s cue to move. With nary a glance, he kicked the concrete wall in front of him, opening to the blue sky filled with smell of fire. Taking great care, he sent Mjolnir flying back where the attack came from. The sound of armor crunching mixed with the child’s continuous babble, although he did pause once the hammer returned to Thor’s beckoning hand.

“Oh man that hammer is awesome! Is it like remote controlled? Do you have a receiver in your hand or something?” Peter prodded Thor’s wrist for something, feeling the bumps of his leather vambraces and armor. He had to gently pull his hammer arm away from the boy, who kept staring at him in an unapologetically excited manner.

“Mjolnir comes to me when I command it, not through any assistance by technology.”

“Wait, so it’s magic?! So you are a god?! Or are you like so advanced with technology that it’s just practically magic to us humans?”

Thor wondered if the child could still breathe with how enthusiastic he was with his chatter, despite the very obvious danger around them. He covered the boy’s mouth, cutting him off midway. Peter made a protesting noise, which went silent at Thor’s serious gaze.

“Little one, do you have fear of falling?”

The strange question visibly perplexed the young child, who only tilted his head and slowly shook it. Thor took that as a good enough sign for him to walk up to the gaping hole in the wall, spinning Mjolnir in one hand, and adjusting his grip on the boy so that it was tight.

“Hold on to me, little one,” he told Peter. The boy just stared at him in confusion, but obeyed his command, arms and legs circling him in a secure hold.

“What are you doing?” he asked. He looked back and forth between the sky and back to Thor, to which his eyes widened.

“Wait! You’re not gonna-”

“Keep your hands strong Peter. It would not do for you to slip from my grasp.”

The little one couldn’t even get a verbal negative out before they were pulled by Mjolnir into the air. Peter screamed, loud enough to send his ears ringing, and gripped Thor’s neck and torso like his life depended on it. Which it probably did.

“THIS IS NOT OKAY!!!” Peter cried out, shaking horribly in Thor’s grasp.

“Do not fret, young Peter, we will soon be on the ground,” Thor promised. The boy simply curled further into Thor’s chest. “But for now, do not fear. For I will not drop you.”

Of course, this was exactly when a squad of Chitauri flyers saw them and began shooting. Thor let out a curse, lost in the winds, as he twisted and turned to avoid the blasts, shielding the young child in his arms. He rolled sideways to avoid a volley of blue energy that would have made him crash. He summoned a quick hail of lightning to thin the large horde. A few flyers escaped the piercing lances of electricity, still chasing him avidly.  He wondered if any of his fellow warriors were nearby to assist him, but forgot it all when he had to dive to avoid another blast. Thinking quickly, he scanned the area before locking on to a tight wedge between two buildings then quickly banked. He dove in to the small space easily, unlike the Chitauri who quickly crashed the moment they tried to imitate his move. He smirked momentarily as he continued his flight. Where was the captain and the Black Widow, or the Man of Iron? He needed to get the small lad in his arms to safety immediately.

“Look out!” Peter screamed.

There was a hiss of energy that was too close for comfort, and much too close to Peter for Thor’s liking, and he descended quickly. He tried to summon lightning again, but these flyers were a much more agile sort as they twisted and rounded around the lightning strikes. Thor would have easily destroyed them by now, but the child was still in his arms and he couldn’t turn around without exposing the child to their weapons.

‘ _Wretched beasts!’_ he thought as one errant blast caused a spray of rubble and making Peter shout in fear. _‘If only I had a free hand, I would rip them apar-’_

Lightning suddenly crackled to life behind, not from the sky, and struck the remaining flyers with deadly accuracy. Peter had a proud smile on his face as the last vestiges of energy disappeared from his palms.

“I helped!” he shouted over the rush of air. He then looked around and his eyes widened, a big smile breaking through the terror. “And we’re flying!”

Peter let out a whoop, early fear now replaced by excitement. Thor wondered if it were the child’s success in defeating their attackers, or perhaps he simply realized the exhilaration of flight. Either way, it was better than having him scream Thor deaf. The bright smile on the child’s face and the sounds of glee he made as they turned into a quieter street caused an amused laugh to escape Thor. Peter smiled wider and returned to hiding his face from the winds in the crook of Thor’s neck.

“I’m glad to see you had fun young one,” Thor told him as he slowly dropped to the ground. He kept smiling as he lowered Peter from his arms, the young boy’s infectious delight still sticking to him.

“Fun? FUN? That wasn’t just fun! That was the experience of a lifetime!” Peter practically shouted, and Thor had to shush him as he looked around to see if any of the Chitauri had followed them.

“It looks like we got them all.”

Peter smiled all proud of himself, and Thor couldn’t help but affectionately pat his head. Sure, it seemed highly inappropriate given the battle, but it was much better than the child left fearful. Rubbing the boy’s head one more time, he observed the area to see if anyone was nearby. He saw a flash of moving blue from above, and he stepped out, hailing the figure. Hopefully it was the police officers or his comrades. The large shield in his arm, was enough identification.

“Captain Rogers!”

The captain turned at Thor’s call, just having dealt a final blow to the Chitauri soldiers. He jogged to them swiftly and gave them an assessing gaze. He paused at the sight of the small lanky boy, and turned a questioning gaze at Thor.

“Thor, did you find this kid?”

He nodded, placing a comforting soldier on Peter who was strangely silent. “Yes. In a building littered with the Chitauri, the only one alive on that floor. I could not leave him alone.”

Steve only nodded, though he went tense at hearing that Peter was the only survivor, then kneeled in front of Peter and laying a hand on the boy’s small shoulder. Peter had his head tilted sideways and was staring at Steve like a young hound curious of a new toy.

“You look like Captain America,” Peter inquired. Thor could see the captain’s mouth quirk upward slightly, before he brought a hand out for the boy to shake. Peter stared at the appendage before gently grabbing it, his small hand dwarfed by the palm of the soldier.

“Yes I am,” Steve said, shaking the boy’s hand lightly.

Peter’s eyes narrowed in further confusion, then widened as his mouth fell in astonishment.

“You’re Captain America,” he mumbled quietly. And then repeated it like he could not believe what he was seeing. “You’re Captain America. Holy crap you’re Captain America!”

“Language,” Steve snapped, not heatedly, but enough for the boy to stand straight with eyes that were even wider than before.

“You’re Captain America,” he repeated in a daze. “You like just like the trading cards my Uncle Ben has!”

Steve huffed a laugh, but not letting the levity take away his concern. “You doing okay there son?”

Peter nodded mutely, softly mumbling “Oh my God Uncle Ben isn’t gonna believe this” under his breath, eyes still wide. And despite the entire situation of them being in a battle, Thor found himself slightly chuckling. Steve just smiled in exasperation and took Peter’s hand in his own and started to guide him away.

“I’m going to give you to the police,” he said. “They’re going to escort you to either the subway or basement. Anywhere that you can hide. We’ll have to be quick though.”

Thor noticed that Peter was had gone rigid, before suddenly struggling from the captain’s grip. Steve let go in surprise, and they both watched as the boy ran back to Thor, eyes wide and lips quivering.

“Yo-you’re gonna leave?” asked Peter, hand fisting his shirt nervously. At Thor’s nod, the boy latched himself on Thor’s waist, tight grip and unyielding. Thor was left astonished by the sudden changed in the boy’s mood.

“Don’t go!” he wailed. “You might not come back! You have to come back. You need to stay!”

Thor shared a wide eyed glance with Captain Rogers before turning back to the shivering child beneath him.

“I will return young one,” he comforted, carding his hands through the boy’s chocolate locks. “I must go to battle to protect your people, and your realm.”

The boy remained quivering under his palm, and he gently extricated himself from Peter’s grip to look the kid in the eyes. There was an expression of longing and fear, with his eyes shining dazed and lost but also desperate and found. It was a complex thing in the boy’s eyes, and maybe even in his mind, and Thor felt pulled by something within him. He could feel a deep and hidden thing within that was racing to stay with the boy. Thor theorized it might be the same pull that brought him to the child in the first place. Peter simply kept his gaze that did not see the present, but something else. The look reminded him of whenever Loki would go into a meditative trance and wake up with that very distant expression. There was an explosion above, and Thor instinctively covered Peter with his own. When it was clear that nothing had fallen on them, he grabbed Peter on the shoulders, still kneeling so that the boy was staring at Thor’s eyes.

“I swear on my life that I will return to you. I will help you understand what is happening to you. I will not leave you alone. But only after the battle may I stay.” His tone was deep and serious, his grip on the boy’s shoulder gentle and reassuring, as he made his promise. He silently willed for the boy to see the truth of his words. And he must have, for the child’s gaze finally returned to the present and he nodded. Thor patted his shoulder before turning his gaze to Captain Rogers, who was now busy defending a group from a couple of soldiers. Thor easily dealt with them and carried Peter to Steve.

“Please ensure this child gets to safety,” he implored. “I have to return to him after the battle. There is much we have to discuss.”

Steve nodded, questions brimming in his eyes but set aside for the battle they had to rejoin. Taking the boy to a nearby officer, Thor saw him share some words with the woman before she took Peter’s hand and dragged him away. Something in Thor clenched at the sight of the boy leaving, and it was even stronger when Peter turned his face back for a moment, eyes wide and afraid, before running with the officer away.

“Forgive me for taking long captain. Now the battle has gone on without us.”

Steve scoffed. “Nah, it’s okay. It’s not like it’s going anywhere.”

With only a grin between them, the two blonds leaped back into the fray.

 

* * *

 

 

The concrete ceiling rumbled with distant explosions, dust raining down like gray snow. Peter coughed as some of it landed on his face and into his nose. He wiped the dust off, although it was kind of useless thanks to his entire body being filthy and sweaty. But huddling under a restaurant while aliens destroyed Manhattan wasn’t something that would leave you smelling like a rose.

Okay, that was a bit inaccurate. It was closer to a basement or storage room, old piles of furniture and other items strewn about. He sat in the corner of the room, had been sitting there for the better part of 30 minutes, besides a cabinet that had a small alcove for him to scoot his body, giving him some semblance of space. He was silently thankful for his small kid body because the rest of the people were all adult sized and were forced to sit next to each other as the attack continued above.

There was a loud boom that made the basement shake, and the people around him whimpered in fear. Peter felt his own heart race as the dust kept falling from the vibrations of whatever chaos was happening above. His lungs did not approve of all the particulates that left him a coughing mess.  When he felt like he hacked out half of his respiratory system out, he leaned on the cool metal of the cabinet, trying to breathe in some clean air despite the continued shaking above.

“I don’t wanna die, I don’t wanna die, I don’t wanna die,” a lady whispered as another explosion sounded above. The police officer that brought him to the basement made a shushing sound, but the lady just whispered louder. There was more shushing, and another woman growling at her to “Shut up, cuz you crying ain’t helping nobody”. The lady just switched to rapidly praying and mumbling. Others joined her in prayer, making a chorus of murmurs that wasn’t helping Peter’s nerves. If anything, the whimpered words of “deliver us from evil” was only making him more anxious. If he had his earphones right now, he would have been blasting Fall Out Boy and Lady Gaga on max. He tried to block out the sound and focused on relaxing, sweat collecting on his brow as the combined warmth of all the bodies in a cement room with little ventilation made it a little hard to breathe.

Something roared from above, loud and guttural yet not like the alien screech of the, er, aliens. But more like if a person shouted and it was mixed with the roar of a lion. Which wasn’t more comfortable, but Peter’s brain was filled with adrenaline and cortisol mixed with a healthy dose of ‘do not want to die’ so maybe he was imagining things. Still, it scared the crap out of everyone else, more screaming and whimpering and everyone scrambling to huddle closer to each other. The roar was quickly followed by high pitched shrieks and metal bending and crunching.

And then there was a loud clap of thunder. It was a strong ‘BOOM’ that somehow penetrated the concrete. The ceiling shook as something crashed just above their spot, meaning all the commotion was directly above their heads. More terrified noises came from the people around him. Peter might have done the same, except the sound of the thunder clap, along with the very faint crackle of energy, made the racing of his heart calm. Even from all the way underground, he could feel the strength of Thor’s lightning, a sort of power that pulled and called him, a blanket that made his nerves less frazzled. He kept his ears to the sound of the thunder, ignoring the fearful muttering around him. If he focused hard enough, he could even hear his hammer flying through the air like a speeding bullet about to tear through some alien butt. It was strangely comforting.

Actually, everything about Thor was strangely comforting to Peter. Ever since the tall blond appeared in Oscorp and threw his magical hammer, Peter felt something within him latch unto Thor. It was really weird how he just _knew_ that the god (god with a ‘g’ or God with a ‘G’?) wouldn’t hurt him. That he just knew the strange tall guy that shot lightning and wore armor like a Dungeons and Dragons character was safe. It was the same thing that helped him defeat the aliens by barbecuing them with lightning, Sith lord style. It might have been the same thing that suddenly brought him back from the dead (which raised some interesting questions he had to think about when he wasn’t in the middle of a warzone).

The strange pull within could have explained how he felt a painful fear grip his heart when Thor had to leave. It was frightening how the thought of being separated from the prince was scarier than being left in the open. Within him he felt the thing, maybe his subconscious or his lightning he wasn’t sure, try and reach out to Thor.

‘ _Maybe resurrection just turned me clingy?’_ he thought then shook his head. ‘ _No that makes no sense. Also did I even die in the first place or am I really just looking for a reason to throw the word_ resurrection _around like I’m some Sunday school priest?’_

As Peter’s thoughts swirled, the world above suddenly went silent. No thunder, no roars, no loud explosions. Just a strange eerie silence. People looked up at the ceiling, the shaking having stopped. They were wide eyed, just like Peter, surprised at the calm above them. He waited, holding his breath to not make a sound, to see if the noise would return.

It didn’t. It was just quiet. The people in the basement started fidgeting nervously, unknowing of what was happening. Desperate to know, some had started standing up and walking to the door. But a quick warning from the police officer made them stop. They all stayed like that, sitting silently as they waited for _something_ to happen. Peter was waiting for the thunder and lightning to return.

There was a sudden crackle. Not from lightning, but from a hand held radio coming to life. The volume of the noise startled some of the other occupants, even Peter who winced at the strange loudness. The police officer grabbed her radio and quietly asked for a status update. The receiver crackled with static, but was clear enough that the message got across.

“It’s over. The things that were attacking us are dead. I repeat, the battle is over. Everything’s gonna be alright now.”

 

* * *

 

 

Thor breathed a sigh of relief as Loki stood silently, bound by the strong Asgardian cuffs that kept his hands tied. Even his mouth was covered, to make sure his silver tongue did not bend the will of the humans. Every precaution was taken so Loki was unable to escape. Still, he tested the cuffs and checked the locks, nodding once he was satisfied with its security. He ignored the burn of guilt at seeing his brother wearing them like a common criminal.

_You could have stopped this. You should have known. Look at how you failed him._

“This brings me no joy brother, seeing you like this.” He gazed directly at Loki as he whispered, wary of how they were in an open park and were still in the presence of the other Avengers. None heard him speak, though he noticed the Lady Natasha turn slightly to him. “You left me no choice though. Now I must bring you back in chains.”

Loki said nothing, the mouth guard making sure of that, yet there was no contempt in his brother’s gaze or posture. Only the same proud grace he always had. Haughty and arrogant, despite the weight of his bindings. Loki raised an eyebrow in amusement. It sent a spike of irritation in Thor, that had stepping away from his brother and grabbing the capsule that held the Tesseract.

“Thank you my comrades.” He nodded at each one, giving a small smile to Erik Selvig. He turned back to his brother, who would have been sneering at them had it not been for the mouth bindings. He lifted the capsule to Loki, and waited for his brother to slowly grasp the handle. With one more shared glance to his brothers at arms, he twisted his side of the device, and felt the energy of the Tesseract surround them as they vanished from Earth.

The sensation of traveling through space was different with the Tesseract. While the device used the Tesseract’s energy to transport them in a manner similar to the Bifrost, it did not carry them in an array of colors and lights made of dark magic. It was smoother, the cool blue of its power cocooning them as the universe shifted around them, like they were sailing through the stars rather than travelling faster than light and through the bowels of Yggdrasil. The worlds around them moved in a blur, and soon they reappeared in the golden halls of Asgard’s throne room. Already, a retinue of guards were around them, spears shining and forms ready to strike. His father sat stoically on his throne as he watched Thor pull the Tesseract out of Loki’s grasp. The guards took that as their cue and moved as one to grab Loki by the shoulders and arms, spears glowing with energy, ready to fire, and making his brother kneel. Thor knew it was necessary, that Loki could try something to escape, yet he couldn’t help the disapproving frown to bloom on his face when he saw the treatment of his brother. Still, despite his displeasure, he did not speak, and simply kneeled in front of his father’s throne, the case with the Tesseract in his grasp.  

“I have brought him back father,” he said. “I have brought my brother home.”

Odin was unspeaking, gazing down at them with one eye burning intensely. No words were shared for many moments, only the crackle of the braziers filled with enchanted flames, the soft hiss of the guards’ spears. Even with but formal robes, Odin cut an imposing figure. Thor thought that maybe he would stay silent all through out, until the loud footfalls of leather boots and heavy steps resounded through the throne room. His golden scepter Gungnir clanged loudly on the tiles and metal of the dais as the king of Asgard stepped down.

Thor beheld a traitorous thought that it was all for dramatic effect, thunderous clanging a display of intimidation to make his captured foes relieve themselves in fear. He could imagine how seeing it would have made him and Loki laugh, his brother especially taking the time to call father “an accomplished thespian with all his theatricality” to which Thor would try to stifle his laughter even more. Mother would smile benignly while chiding them to be more respectful, and father would look displeased though hide a spark of amusement. After which, he and Loki would run from the throne room on their young legs and explore Asgard, letting their childish giggling trail behind them. But that was mere memory of a time long past, figments of a child’s dream. Reality offered no sweet visions, only a cold truth where his brother kneeled in chains like a beast for slaughter, and Thor was the hunter who brought him to his reckoning.

Thor stayed kneeling as his father got closer. The thumps of his steps, clashing with the metallic clash of his scepter on the floor, continued like an executioner’s drum until they paused in front of their kneeling figures. Thor was still and waiting command. He felt the warmth of his father’s hand on his shoulder.

“Rise my son,” he said. The hand left his shoulder and Thor stood, towering over his father yet not as near as commanding. He met his father’s gaze and saw the storm within his father’s eye. Understandable, he supposed. When has it ever been easy to see your own son in the bonds of a criminal?

“You have done your duty to Asgard, have served your king well.” Odin spoke in his kingly voice, powerful, strong, yet revealed nothing of the true emotions his father carried. “You found your brother, prevented the further destruction of Midgard, allied yourself with their warriors, and delivered a powerful weapon out of the Midgardian’s hands.”

Odin’s face was set in firm expression as he said this. Was this admonishment? Could his father not be pleased for the actions he took? Thor opened his mouth to counter, more reflexive than with any thought, but the twinkle in his eye made him pause. Then, a subtle smile appeared on his father’s face, a crinkle really, but it was enough for Thor to see it as true.

“I am proud of you my son,” he whispered, to only Thor’s ears.

“Thank you father,” Thor replied with a small smile. Odin patted him on the shoulder, before turning to his brother. And instantly, Thor saw the momentary cheer fade away from his father’s shoulders. His face turned into a frown, his grip on the scepter Gungnir becoming slightly harder, his voice coming out weary and more exhausted than he had ever heard before.

“Loki. My dear boy.”

Loki said nothing, still on his knees, no doubt angry and stewing in turmoil. Odin gestured for the guards to step away, and they obeyed with only slight reluctance. He then grabbed Loki’s cuff, and pulled, prompting him to stand. And when he reached his full height, same as Odin, he pulled back his shoulders in a visible display of indignant arrogance. Yet Odin did not anger, nay he did not bristle at the disrespect. Even more drained and beaten was what he became, even if Thor was the only one who could see. The slight hunch of his back, his shoulders not tight in grievance but of a hidden emotion, exhaustion maybe. Meanwhile Loki stood proud of his defiance. Eyes with a cold fire glowered balefully at their father. If he could speak, Loki would have let his words fly like daggers, wounding and piercing. But the silence could not stop the hatred that was practically glowing in Loki’s eye.

“What have you done my son?” he murmured. His hand rose, reaching for Loki. The other visibly recoiled, making Odin’s hand falter but not stop as it grasped the mouth gag. He skillfully opened the metal clasps and undoing the spell that bound Loki from using unspoken magic.

“Leave us,” Odin commanded to the guards. They obeyed, though Thor noted some where more hesitant. Still, they were left alone not but a few moments later. Only the sound of crackling fire filled the hall, Odin silent and waiting as Loki played with setting his jaw right. Once he was done with his act, he revealed a vicious smirk.

“Odin,” he said mockingly. “What an honor it is to be in the presence of Asgard’s king.” He bowed a jeering image, awkward due to his bindings. Odin was not amused, seen in how his frown deepened and his weariness masked by a more furious energy.

“Loki,” he growled, “your cheer is neither warranted nor wise. You are here not as a prince of Asgard, but as her prisoner.”

“Well forgive me Allfather, I never would have known given how I’m bound like a hog while your soldiers threaten me death.”

“Brother be still,” Thor warned. “Your tongue harkens for greater retribution. Don’t’ make this worse.”

Loki turned to him with rage. “Retribution? Why, dear brother how is my own retribution given thought while Odin’s is left hidden in the shadows?!” His smile was a sharp blade that split his face unseemly in both rage and mania.

His father did not allow his own composure to falter, despite Thor seeing how tense Odin had become. “Because you brought ruin and catastrophe to Midgard. Their innocent world was dragged into a war that they did not wish. You have brought death unto their shores, and war to their horizon.”

“How magnanimous of you to speak of destruction and horror as if you have not brought it by your own hand!”

A shadow passed in Odin’s eyes, then a fire reappeared within. “That is the past. A history of bloodshed I have strived to repair with peace and prosperity.”

“Peace?” Loki said incredulously. “The humans kill each other every day, create famine and ruin as they progress, bring destruction to their own world as they live the way they are now. What peace do you speak of?”

Odin did not take well to his further insolence. “Do not talk about their wellbeing like a mother about her babe. You care not for them. You care not for their world.”

Loki gnashed his teeth like a starving beast, but calmed and let a cool countenance of apathy envelope him. “That is true. They can all die like rats.”

Thor groaned, fearful for his brother, exasperated with his behavior, and still the ever present guilt of not being strong enough to stop him. Odin was more quiet, choosing to glare at Loki. For the most part, his brother did not flinch under their father’s gaze, though he could see the white knuckle grip Loki had.

“Where did you get that power?”

Loki blinked his eyes rapidly, acting as if to having been awakened from a dream. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I know what you mean.”

“He means the one who gave you the scepter, the Chitauri, the one who controlled you,” Thor intercepted, hoping that it did not devolve into  
further argument. Loki did not take kindly to his words however.

“I am controlled by no one!” he shouted. He turned to Thor with anger and stepped closer as he stared his older brother down. “I am my own ruler. I am my own master.”

“Yet you bring another’s army to perform in your war. Not your own,” Odin countered.

Loki growled fiercely at the insult. He took a step forward and spat his words at Odin’s face with fury. “They are MY army! Mine! I rule over the Chitauri, just as I should have ruled over the humans.”

His father did nothing but slam Gungnir on the floor. Chains burst forth from the floor and wrapped themselves around Loki, dragging him back and keeping him still. Thor made to move, but a sharp look from his father had him pausing mid-step. Odin turned back to Loki and snarled his next words. “You _ruled_ over them. But they are walking husks, commanded by a ship. And they have fallen like ants with no queen. You rule over nothing. Not here. Not ever.”

Loki struggled against the chains, glowing menacingly in runes and spellbinding that further weakened Loki’s grip on magic. And still, his brother struggled against them, howling his indignation.

“It is my birthright to be a king!” he shouted.

“Your birthright was to die as a child!”

His father’s words echoed in the chamber. A hush followed Odin’s angry yell. All three of them stood in oppressive silence. Thor was speechless, unable to think of words to diffuse the situation, not after what his father had said. He took a step between them, but was lost as to who he should go to. Loki ceased his struggles, slowly dropping his shoulders in a defeated posture, as his face crumpled in an uncontrolled display of sorrow.

“So you finally admit it,” Loki said in a soft voice. His eye shined with unshed tears, catching the light of the fire. “You’ve finally spoken the truth.”

“No Loki-”

“Death was always my destiny,” he mumbled, face falling as his hair covered his face. “A lost refugee, a prisoner of war, and now a criminal bound for execution.”

“Loki, stop.” Thor interrupted. Loki listened, going silent as eye filled with darker shadows. Thor ached to touch his brother, to calm his mind, help heal his heart, to pull him from the darkness. He took a step closer to him, but saw the other’s eyes flick to him instantly. The way Loki stared at him, filled with loathing and rage, eyes burning green through his dark locks, made Thor stop in his tracks. A shiver ran down his spine at the amount of spite in the other’s eyes, so unfamiliar from what he knew.

“Don’t come near me Odinson.” He said _Odinson_ like a curse as he stepped further away in the limited distance allowed by the chains. “I don’t need your mercy. I don’t need your pity. Keep it to yourself.”

“Brother please,-”

“Enough Thor, your pleas are wasted,” his father interjected. “He does not seek your council, nor your brotherhood.”

“Finally, wisdom needed to be spoken.”

Odin frowned at Loki’s insolence, and his eyes darkened with anger. He took a step forward, letting his scepter clang loudly and echo like a gong. Loki stood in his defiance as the Allfather got closer. When he was but face to face to him a moment later, Odin stared in his eyes as he opened his mouth to a command.

“Loki of Asgard, your crimes against the world of Midgard will be weighed, and the proper punishment will be decided. Until then, you will be kept in the dungeons.”

Loki scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. “Dungeons? Will you not execute me now?”

“No.” Odin turned away and made to return to his throne. Thor stayed silent, his own emotions in turmoil as his father and brother spat foul words. But he could not help but fell relief that execution was not to come yet. Loki was just perplexed.

“Are you afraid?” he challenged. “Are you too weak to kill me, even after what you think are terrible crimes? Are you becoming senile, old man?”

“Loki! Stop it!” Thor admonished. Loki opened his mouth to say more, but Odin’s voice, weary and downtrodden, rose first.

“I cannot choose to execute you,” he said in a soft voice, “because your mother has spoken not too.”

That made Loki pause. Closing his mouth, Loki went quiet as his shoulders slumped.  Odin then turned to face them again, eye stormy with sorrow and rage.

“Do not think this the end though. I simply accepted to not execute you this instant. Your fate may still change.”

“How easy this must be for you? To throw away children like beaten weapons,” Loki whispered.

“It is not easy. Each and every time, my heart has been torn. Every single time I see my children fall, a part of me has fallen with them.”

His confession rang loudly in the quiet, Loki left speechless finally. Thor had simply remained silent, more turmoil in his heart and still just as unable to do anything. Odin turned away from them and walked back to his throne, steps slow and shoulders tense. Thor took a step to his father, seeing the exhausted posture, ready to offer any comfort needed.

And then Odin paused, grabbing for his chest. Thor saw his father tremble, his grip on his scepter gone tight. Thor rushed to his father and saw the pained expression on his face, before it faded to the same stoicism.

“Father you need rest,” Thor says in concern. Odin waves him off as he straightens again. He continued his trek until he was sitting once again on his throne, and down at Thor and the chained Loki further from the dais.

“Father. Bring out your sorrows for another time.”

“I am fine,” Odin assured Thor. “Let me say my piece.”

Thor relents. He turns from his father and back to his brother, catching the edge of a worried frown before a cruel smirk take its place.

“I see age does not become you Odin,” his brother commented.

“Have care you speak,” Thor warned. “He is your father, as much as he is mine!”

“Enough!” Odin interjected once again. “Enough. Loki, son of Odin, we shall continue this on a later date. Your fate will be decided until I see fit. Until then, you will be held in the dungeon.”

“If the axe is to be my end, then spare me the tears and just do it.”

Odin said nothing and only commanded, “Guards! Take him to the dungeons.”

Instantly, the guards walked to the throne room, grabbed the end of the chains, and pulled Loki away from the throne room. Loki said nothing more, only sending one more baleful glance before the doors slammed shut. Now alone with Thor, Odin rested his back on the seat, letting the exhaustion he hid finally appear in the slump of his shoulder. He rested their momentarily, before turning to Thor.

“Take leave my son. It is time for you to rest. You have had enough battles for today.” Thor noticed the distressed lines of his father’s face, and felt guilt that he might add more with his next words.

“I cannot father,” said Thor. “I do not wish to be another grievance, but I must return to Earth promptly.”

Odin gazed at him curiously before saying, “Promptly you say? When you have already returned?”

Thor nodded. Odin straightened from his seat to turn to Thor fully.

“Why for my son? Is it because of the mortal woman?”

“No father. The Lady Jane Foster is not the reason for my return.” Though Thor wished he could so carelessly come back to her.

“Is it your new shield brothers I wonder?”

“No it is not them either.”

“Then forgive me my son if I do not understand the necessity of your travel. Especially due to the tenuous position we are currently in.”

Odin’s face was now in the mold of a strong king, and not the tired man before. And Thor knew what his father spoke of. Ever since the Bifrost was destroyed and Asgard was forced to travel via ship, their enemies have arisen from the shadows to bear fruit of their precarious situation. Attacks had started on the Nine Realms, rumors of uprisings and marooning have been heard. Millennia had passed before the Nine Realms had fallen into chaos. And with the fiasco on Earth, Thor had no doubt that it would send a message to the other realms to attack the lands of Asgard further. He wondered if his reasons were enough to convince his father.

The familiar tingle of the boy’s magic returned to his memory, and he resolved himself to try.

“I understand the danger we are now facing, and the responsibility that we have in protecting the realms,” Thor started. “But returning to Earth has become my duty as well, for something remains on their planet that is of Asgard.”

That had Odin’s eyes sharpening as that last part grabbed his attention. “Another weapon left on Midgard?”

Thor shook his head. “No not a weapon. A child.”

Odin was an image of stoicism, leaving Thor unknowing of his true thoughts as he said, “A child? An Asgardian child on Midgard?”

“I believe so.”

“You believe so. You are not sure?”

Thor momentarily faltered, but soldiered on. “I am sure the child is of Asgardian descent. For he bears Asgardian magic.”

His father was quiet as he observed Thor through his eye.

“Impossible,” he said. “If that were true, then we should have known before. Only those with great power has can escape Heimdall’s gaze.”

“Or maybe those who had no power to begin with,” Thor countered. “The boy I saw today shared the element of the storm, just as I. He wielded lightning like spears. Yet he knew nothing of how he had done it. He was fearful yet excited at his abilities. Like a babe learning of their magic for the first time.”

Thor got closer to his father’s throne, stopping just before he towered over him, a few steps below. “I believe the child is Asgardian. And as such, he must return to our home, to his home, and learn of our ways.”

Odin stayed quiet for a long moment, and Thor was tempted to squirm under the weighing gaze of his father. He added to his statement by saying, “We both know that Asgardian magic can only be wielded by those with the blood of Asgard. And there have never been children of Earth and Asgard that shown to have these abilities. But this child has. He’s finally awakened to his powers and he has no one like him. He needs to return to his true home.”

Still, Odin said nothing. The silence stretched on for a long time. Thor was tempted even further to fill it with more words, but his father raised a hand to stop him before he could. Finally, his father rose from the throne, a height greater than Thor’s, then asked, “Beyond his abilities, have you further proof that he is what you say he is?”

Thor almost sighed in relief that his father listened, but managed to stop it in time. Taking great care and hoping for the best, he answered the question with, “I have none but the assurance of his magical abilities. But we can easily test him”

“Then that is not enough to call him our own,” Odin swiftly replied. He turned away from Thor and started walking down from the dais, away from the throne room. Thor followed, grabbing the Tesseract, racing after his father. As he finally reached him, further in the palace, he tried to explain further.

“Yet Asgardian magic can only be wielded by Asgardians, or those who have blood that gives them the strength of Asgard.”

“There are wizards and sorcerers on Midgard. They too possess the magical capacity to wield the elements, and just as freely as any Asgardian mage.”

That was news to Thor. Earth had beings capable of magic? His father noticed his surprise, and continued by saying, “I see that this is new to you. Yes, there are witches and conjurers on Earth. They use a different form of magic to ours, and their teachings use different methods than Asgard. Yet they are just as capable of achieving the feats you witnessed.”

“I did not know this,” Thor confessed, steps loud as he followed his father through the halls of Asgard.

“That you did not,” Odin replied, walking briskly. “But now you do.”

He then abruptly stopped, and Thor noticed that they had arrived at doors of his father’s treasure room. Without a word, the guards opened the doors of the treasure room. Odin dismissed them afterwards and had them close the doors as they entered, so only him and Thor remained inside. Thor allowed himself a look of the room’s contents as they walked further inside. The tall stone walls etched with runes and decorative lines, hiding the protective magic spells and the energy barriers now in place. The braziers burned low, casting the room in more shadows than orange light. Here, his father looked more menacing. Thor wondered if that was the point.

“Since you have willingly carried the Tesseract, you can do the honors of storing it here safely.”

His father gestured to one of the stone alcoves. An overhead light sprung to life and revealed and empty stand, already fitted to hold the Tesseract. He obeyed his father’s command and opened the capsule containing the Tesseract. The cube glowed brightly, cool blue chasing the dark shadows. In his hands, it seemed to hum further and with greater strength. It was then that Thor realized that he did not need his father’s permission. With the cube, he could simply will it and space would unfold itself to his will.

And what after that, he would once again unleash the Tesseract to the humans’ control.

“Why do you take your time my son?” his father asks, patient, condescending, _knowing_. “Place the Tesseract on where it should be.”

Thor took a breath before he listened. His hands were steady, despite the energy in him, the desire to use it and simply _leave._ When the Tesseract sat on the stand, a soft glow emanated around it. An energy barrier and a locking spell. With the cube secure, he turned to his father. He stood there, unhurried despite knowing how tempted Thor was. Was this another test?

“Thor, it is time for you to rest. You grow weary from your battle.”

“I told you father, I must return to Earth immediately. The boy waits for me.”

Odin slammed Gungnir on the stone floor, and prowled to his son. Thor managed to stop himself from stepping back. “And I shall repeat once more. Asgard needs you more than a single Midgardian child. Your duty is to protect the Nine Realms. Now more than ever.”

Thor could not help the frustration bubbling within him. How could he convince his father that he simply _had_ to return?

“If you truly fear for the boy, then I can seek the sorcerers of Midgard to take him in.”

That made Thor pause. He looked at his father, looming in shadows and low light, into his eye, seeking any falsehood.

“Sorcerers? Would they be sufficient in teaching the boy the necessary skills to wield his abilities?”

Odin nodded. “They are powerful, though their methods are vastly different to ours. Still, the child shall grow in ability under their tutelage. I can simply visit their leader and leave the child to them.”

“I thought you did not care for this child?” Thor asked skeptically.

“I care for all the beings of the Nine Realms, as a king should to all his subjects.”

“Then allow me to return to him. If he is of the sorcerers, then I can go back and escort him there. No harm shall occur, and I may even provide my aid to the humans after Loki’s attack.”

His father frowned further at the mention of Loki, so Thor quickly continued.

“But if he is of Asgard, if he is one of us, then it is our duty to guide him. To protect him and raise him as he should have.”

“And how do you wish to go to Earth?” his father challenged. “The Bifrost is yet to be finished, you have yet to master wielding dark magic. Will you ask me to gather it once more? Or will you go to Heimdall? Or shall you use the Tesseract that you were so tempted to use just moments prior? Will you risk greater catastrophe all for a child?”

His father scowled in the same stoic manner, intense and daunting and all-knowing in his truth. For it was true what his father spoke. The risk was great, and Thor had to think of the other realms. It was wisdom that his father had always taught. The needs of the many before the needs of the few. The kingdom is more important. The people were the heart of a king. His greatest burden, and his greatest strength. And Thor believed it truly. Yet still.

The image of Peter’s face came unbidden to his mind. A round face with a small nose, pudgy with youth, tender with childish innocence. Large brown eyes that had twinkling stars of excitement. Smudges of dirt that did not ruin the image of youthful levity, but greatly enhance it, like the sight of a child dirtied by playing in the open fields. And tear tracks with quiet whimpers and small hands connected to thin arms that grasped him tightly, soft whispered pleas of “Don’t go”. His chest became heavy, and his heart felt captured in a vice as he entertained the thought of leaving the boy alone. He knew within him that leaving Peter on Earth was not an option.

If his father thought his travel not of worth, then Thor simply had to make it worthwhile.

“What if I become an ambassador to Earth?”

“What?” his father said.

“I shall be an ambassador. A liaison between Asgard, the other realms, and Earth.”

“And why should you do this?” Odin asked, stepping back. “Did you not listen to my warnings, or are you going to ignore me and follow your brother’s path?”

The accusation stung, and his angry tone against Loki made Thor’s chest feel heavier. But nonetheless, he soldiered on.

“I will not fall to the temptation of power. I have no need for it.”

“At Midgard, you will be more powerful than any of them. There you can be a god.”

“Father you know me truly that ruling is not my wish.”

“Yes, you simply seek the boy.” He turned away from him, dismissively. “And wish to spend your days on Earth now than on Asgard.”

“No, that is not it father!” he pleaded. “I wish to still be here on Asgard, but we cannot ignore that Earth has fallen into our fold. They are no longer ignorant, and they are no longer powerless.”

His father stayed still, and Thor hoped he could capture enough of his attention and not be dismissed.

“With my fellow Avengers, we stopped the attack of the Chitauri, an army of an unknown world. With the Tesseract, they gleaned a greater understanding of powers beyond, and built weapons that are closer to what the rest of the universe has built. They are emerging into a new age of warfare and technology and they need help in understanding it.”

“So you seek to be a benevolent teacher? To rule them as a king?”

He denied his father’s words. “Only to help, guide, and protect a civilization budding into the next evolutionary step. Not rule.”

“Was this not Loki’s wish?” he reminded. “To be a god to guide them as lowly creatures?”

Thor held his tongue from reflexively denying that he wasn’t the same, for in truth it was wasn’t it? What he was proposing was that he would help in guiding Earth into a new age. He would reveal to them the technology that can help them advance further, just as he could prevent them from creating greater weapons of destruction. It was just like what Loki said he would do. Rule over them, because it is something they need.

But Earth didn’t need a king. It needed a wise friend.

“Earth is chaotic, true. It is divided, and it is filled with madness.” He stepped forward, letting the light of the brazier reveal his face. His father turned to him then. “But we have no right to step into their world to dictate their life. We seek to foster peace. This is the way. We fear further catastrophe from the outside. Then let’s strengthen those within. We cannot see them as simpletons when they have the capacity of becoming just as, if not greater, than us. But that is their choice in the end. What we can only do is help them move on from their chaos and into order.”

“By sending you as an ambassador?” Odin asked doubtfully.

“Yes.”

Odin said nothing, the braziers burning lowly the only sound. Soon, Odin spoke.

“I know that ruling and politics is not your desire. You seek to defend our borders, bring peace instead.”

Thor said nothing, waiting for Odin to finish.

“And yet, here you are. Practicing your political skills, trying to foster peace, struggling to convince me to let you return to Midgard. All for a child. A child that you do not know.”

Thor lowered his head, unable to deny the strangeness of his conviction. Yet it settled deep in his bones that the boy was important, or at the very least connected to his homeland. And he couldn’t leave him alone.

“What prince am I if I could not take care of my subjects alone in another world?”

His father said nothing at first, until he walked around Thor, slowly. He stopped when he reached the alcove containing the Tesseract. Only then did he speak.

“I see that nothing will stop you from returning to this child.”

Thor nodded. Odin had a look that spoke of a hundred truths and a thousand secrets. Thor waited patiently for his father to respond, resisting the urge to bounce his leg like he did as a child. Then Odin let out an almost imperceptible sigh, before grabbing the Tesseract from its stand, the magic and security recognizing the king of Asgard.

“Bring the child here if you can, let him be examined by the scientists and doctors. If not, bring a sample of him that can be examined for his genealogy.”

Thor smiled at his father’s unspoken agreement. He nodded firmly, letting a smile on his face bloom. The Tesseract glowed brightly in his father’s hands, and a smoky portal appeared beside them, glowing the same faint blue but bathed in the strange mist of the portal’s ring. It was different from how he used the Tesseract prior, though he could still feel the same energy. Thor almost jumped in surprise, but managed to stop himself. His father gestured to the portal with one hand.

“This will take you to the city which you came from. I am not fully familiar with it, so you must will the specific location by yourself. Once you have found him, simply call for Heimdall and he shall inform me of where you are so I can open a portal.”

“Thank you father,” said Thor genuinely, thankful that his father listened. Odin simply nodded. Sharing one more glance with his father, he stepped closer to the portal, bringing the place he remembered the most, and stepped through.

Stepping through the portal was a different experience from using the Tesseract as a bridge. It did not have the same experience of travelling through the stars, but was an instantaneous change in location. One moment he was in Odin’s treasure room. Next he was in the balcony of Stark Tower, overlooking the horizon of the city they called New York.

“Hey Point Break! What’s with the sudden return? Missed us already?”

Thor turned at the voice, and saw his new shield brother Anthony Stark, disengaging his suit. Must have been startled by the appearance of the portal.

“Forgive my Anthony, I did not mean any harm.”

The metal face plate of his suit opened up and revealed the Man of Iron’s grimacing face. “Please never call me Anthony again? It’s super weird and just sounds way too old timey.”

“Forgive me, I meant no offense.”

“Ignore him, he’s being a big baby.” A feminine voice joined them. A woman joined them on the balcony, lacking Stark’s armor, opting for a suit.

“Pepper! I thought you were in DC?”

The Lady Pepper shook her head with a smile, and went to hug Stark.

“I was, until I saw you going through a portal in space while carrying a nuke. Somethings are more important than meetings.”

“I’m glad you think I’m worth more than the future of my company.”

“Don’t kid yourself Tony,” Lady Pepper laughed. “Somebody still has to do the actual monitoring of the business.”

Stark, or ‘Tony’ rather, chuckled and said something that had them kissing passionately. And while Thor had no qualms in seeing displays of love and affection, he would prefer to get back to his main quest.

“Forgive me Anthony, but I must bother you for your assistance.”

Stark groaned, breaking away from the kiss to glare at Thor, though lightly. “I told you Goldilocks, don’t call me Anthony. Tony is fine. Or Stark. Or genius billionaire playboy philanthro-”

“Then I require your assistance in finding a child for me.”

Tony sputtered from the interruption, but the Lady Pepper asked in his stead. “Who are you looking for Thor?”

 

* * *

 

 

“Peter Parker.”

Peter looked up from where he was kneeling, wathcing the very interesting (read: boring) view of a snail crossing the street to see a man in a suit looking for him. Out in the abandoned street, where the rest of the people were being escorted out of the ruins, Peter stood in the sidelines, waiting for a certain blond to return, all alone. Or at least, not anymore.

The man was standing beside a black car that was very expensive looking (was that an Audi or a Maserati?) that had the vibe of ‘Mafia Boss’ all over it. Which wouldn’t make sense because (a) why would they come out after an alien attack, (b) why would they look for Peter of all people, and (c) because he couldn’t think of another reason and things just sound better in threes.

“Hey kid, you Peter Parker?”

Now Peter was taught well by his Aunt May and Uncle Ben on what to do with strangers. If they ask for your name, ask them why. If they tell you and it’s safe, then go nuts. If its sketchy, run the other way. If they don’t tell you why, run like hell and dial 911. If they chase you, hide and call 911. If they grab you, kick them in the balls, bite their hand, run like hell, hide, _then_ call 911. And maybe Peter was mentally preparing to book it but he wasn’t actually ready, because the man had already waked within arm distance and Peter was just staring at him. Dumb animal brain: 1, Survival instincts: 0.

“Hey. I asked if you’re Peter Parker.” Make that Dumb Animal Brain: 2, because he nodded in yes to the big, tall stranger in a suit who also looked like the goon from The Godfather (which he didn’t watch because he was a good boy and good boys don’t watch violent movies, no sir) that was asking for him, completely forgetting _all_ the steps to ‘Interacting with Strangers’ plan that his aunt and uncle taught him.

“Ok good. I don’t wanna scare ya kid, but somebody’s looking for you.”

And obviously that had him scared and _not_ wanting to go with him. Peter backed away immediately, which had the guy cursing and shouting “Wait I’m harmless, I’m not gonna hurt you”, which just prompted Peter to keep backing away. And he realized that crab walking wasn’t the most efficient way to run from a clearly dangerous man who was cursing. Just as he managed to stand, there was the sound of a car door opening, and Peter turned to see who got out. And then his jaw fell to the floor (metaphorically, not literally cuz that’s scary) as Tony Stark stepped out, wearing jeans and a Black Sabbath T-shirt.

Peter stopped where he was, the other man grunting a “Finally, thank God” as Tony Stark approached them. And his brain might have just fried a bit, the heat would do that to you, heat and alien radiation, because he was definitely hallucinating, or he actually died in the lab and he was in some very weird version of heaven. Yep, that was probably it.

Except the Tony Stark figment of his imagination kept walking until he kneeled in front of Peter, putting his hand on his shoulder. Peter was probably gaping like a fish, or a snake who dislocated its jaw, or maybe he wasn’t breathing and started suffering a post-asphyxiation hallucination (is that even a thing?) because this could _not be real right now._ Tony Stark was right in front of him and holy mother of God, sweet gift of all that is holy, and every other curse word Aunt May doesn’t want Peter to use even though she uses it herself, Tony Stark was right in front of him and Peter might actually faint.

“Don’t faint on me yet kid.”

And Tony Stark was apparently a mind reader too, though he diligently tried to follow his instruction and tried to make sure he didn’t pass out from his heart beating like crazy because Tony _FREAKING_ Stark was in front of him.

“So are you Peter Parker?”

Peter nodded, saying “ugh” dumbly ( _dumbly_ for crying out loud!) as Tony Stark grasped his shoulder and steered him away from where ever he was going and started talking to him. Which was _wow_ Tony Stark was talking to him, and wasn’t that wild?

“So here’s the thing kid, somebody asked me to look for you. Now this somebody is kinda a big deal. I mean he talks like a weird Shakespeare play all the time and he has no concept of most electronics, but he’s a prince and he kinda important. Also he helped us, The Avengers, which you shouldn’t know, my tongue slipped, so shhh, and he sorta part of the team and teammates help each other or something. So I kinda need you to come with me.”

Peter, child genius, youngest student of Midtown High, the kid that surprised Dr. Curt Connors, understood absolutely nothing of what he said, only saying “You’re Tony Stark.”

The other man managed to not laugh out loud at what Peter was sure was a dumb expression on his face, managing to smile brightly at him.

“See Happy?” he asked the other dude out of The Sopranos (which he also didn’t watch behind his Aunt May’s back through streaming online. No he didn’t) “I told you he’d like me.”

“Yeah Tony sure. Except Thor asked for the kid with his brain not melted after exposure to you.”

“You make me sound like I’m radioactive.”

“Well you’re something Tony.”

“Why do I let you talk back to me?”

“Because you respect me as a human being and me and Pepper and Rhodey are the only ones who hadn’t wanted to strangle you yet.”

“Jokes on you, Pepper told me she wanted to do that yesterday.”

“I meant we haven’t _planned_ on strangling you. Imagining though, that's happened a lot.

Peter tuned the rest of the bickering out as he locked on to the one piece of information that was now very important.

“Thor’s with you? Is he back?”

The two turned to him, startled by the suddenness of his intrusion. When Tony Stark nodded slowly, Peter smiled then walked to the car, opened the doors, and took as seat at the back, looking at them patiently. Tony and the guy called Happy was just staring at him. Peter let out a huff.

“Are we going to see Thor or what?”

That shook them out of their reverie, and he was soon joined by Tony Stark in the back ( _HOLY CRAP_ Tony Stark was sitting next to him, soon leaving the street. And he was trying not to vibrate in his seat out of excitement when Tony Stark said, “Ever been to Stark Tower?”

And Peter couldn’t stop the excited squeal that came out of his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand we're done once again!!! I hope it wasn't too long? I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you have any suggestions or ideas, don't be afraid to comment them or send the to my twitter! Thank you so much for reading!  
>   
> Leave a comment or kudos, share, and follow if you liked this story and any of my other story ideas like it!  
>   
> Also, please support me on my [ Ko-Fi ](http://ko-fi.com/fluffyspideys) which can help me write more stories like this and more!  
> I also have a [ Twitter account @fluffyspideys ](https://twitter.com/fluffyspideys) which you can follow me on if you ever wanna ask me stuff, share MCU and other fandom content, or just harass me to get on to writing more.  
>  _ _ _ _Thank you!____  
>   
>   
> 

**Author's Note:**

> AAAAAND WE'RE DONE!!!!!
> 
> Thank you for somehow managing to get through that monster of a mess. It took me a _ridiculously _long time to finish this story, from planning to actual writing mixed with a _lot _of procrastination. And I am so thankful to finally share it with you all!____  
>  Oh, and if you noticed the familiarity of some of the lines, then I must admit that I might have just picked them up from somewhere else.  
> Leave a comment or kudos, share, and follow if you liked this story and any of my other story ideas like it!  
>   
> Also, please support me on my [ Ko-Fi ](http://ko-fi.com/fluffyspideys) which can help me write more stories like this and more!  
> I also have a [ Twitter account @fluffyspideys ](https://twitter.com/fluffyspideys) which you can follow me on if you ever wanna ask me stuff, share MCU and other fandom content, or just harass me to get on to writing more.  
>  _ _ _ _Thank you!____  
>   
>   
> 


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